


The Memory of You

by PotionChemist



Series: The Memory of You Universe [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, Love Triangles, Memory Alteration, Multiple Voices, Obliviation, Secrets, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 271,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23353534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger fell in love against all odds, but there was one big problem — he was already married.Pressured, Hermione does something she promised herself she would never do again and erases their affair from his memory. Completely devastated, she avoids seeing Draco or the Malfoys at all costs.But is their love too strong? Are they inevitable? What will happen if he finds out about their previous relationship?
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Series: The Memory of You Universe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630960
Comments: 3574
Kudos: 1530
Collections: want to read





	1. Astoria - October 2005

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [À ton souvenir](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469729) by [NyuAka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyuAka/pseuds/NyuAka)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to what I’ve dubbed my giant angst bomb. This story has been in the works for a little under a year, and it’s tried my patience so many times. 
> 
> Here are the warnings: There will be light Draco/Astoria smut, Hermione will have a relationship (both emotional and sexual - with full explicit smut) with another character to be tagged later. There will be four POVs, but I will try not change in the middle of a chapter. If I happen to, I will make it very clear! I actually hate everyone in this story at one point or another so I am assuming readers will, too. I am okay with that. Tell me your feelings! Also, feel free to reach out to me on social media if you have questions about any of the tags and I will give you as much or as little information as you want. I don't want to trigger anyone.
> 
> When I say slow burn, I mean slooooooow. I know this is something new and different for me, but I have a ton of building to do before we get there. I am asking you all to trust me! It'll be a very long journey (thinking at least 250k - I have over 100k written), but I've been told this story is pretty good! *wink* You can expect future chapters to be between 2500 and 7000 words, posting on Saturdays. I have a buffer of ~20 chapters already completed.
> 
> I need to thank so many people - smithandbarrowman, coyg_81, TriDogMom, BreathOfThePhoenix, LaBelladoneX for a ton of combined Alpha/Beta work. TriDogMom was the first one to look at this story and she's read parts in third person, first person, past tense, present tense. You name it, I did it before deciding! 
> 
> Also, a blanket thanks to Sanctum of (in)Sanity for hosting so many wonderful events for both NaNo and the upcoming Camp NaNo. If you're writing and struggling with anything, you should jump in that group. There are so many talented authors that will jump to help you as soon as you ask! I definitely chatted through details for this story with a bunch of people and they talked me off the ledge after NaNo!

__

_"Memory is all we are. Moments and feelings, captured in amber, strung on filaments of reason._

_Take a man's memories and you take all of him."_

_\- Mark Lawrence, King of Thorns (The Broken Empire, #2)_

* * *

I’d been living in hell for nearly a year.

That was how long I’d known about my husband’s affair. When I told him I was pregnant, I thought it would all stop, that he would give her up to focus on our growing family. He had to, right? 

Wrong. 

Instead of being happy and celebrating with me, he fled the Manor and ran to her. I shouldn’t have been shocked, but I was. When Draco stormed away I immediately broke down, losing myself to the tears I normally kept at bay while I foolishly waited for him to return. 

An hour passed and he didn’t come back. At this point, my sadness morphed into blind anger, both at myself and at him. I was furious that I meant nothing to him, that the baby growing inside of me, his heir, was also less important than _her_. 

I was so upset that night that I made a snap decision to tell his father — a decision that has now come back to haunt me. 

I sat in the Manor waiting for Hermione Granger, the woman whom my husband was in love with, to finish Obliviating him. She was erasing their relationship from his memory and altering Draco’s memories of me so he would think he and I had always been in love.

The woman that Draco actually loved was transferring the feelings he had for her to me, and that wasn’t what I wanted at all. I wanted him to _choose_ me — to choose our family — over her. I should’ve known that I’d never be able to compete with the Brightest Witch of Her Age, the forbidden fruit that had dangled in front of Draco for over ten years. Why would he want the wife his parents had arranged for him when he could have her?

I wasn’t as smart as her. Or as famous. Or as innocent and bookish, something that most men seemed to find intriguing when it came to her specifically. They wanted to know if she was quiet and subdued in bed or hiding a wild side. With a girl like Hermione, no one could just believe that she’d have average, run-of-the-mill sex. No, she would either be a prude to be joked about or a hellcat to brag about.

I waited for three days, hoping that she wouldn’t kill Draco or turn him into a vegetable by fiddling around inside his brain. Lucius, of course, had hired a specialized, discreet Healer to oversee the process. Even if Hermione was the most brilliant witch of our generation, she didn’t have Healer training. To add insult to injury, I had to let her dig through my memories and fantasies, giving her things she could plant in Draco’s mind. How had Lucius put it? Draco would need something to help him remember his darling, affectionate wife. He had to remember how he’d felt when I told him I was pregnant. I wanted to laugh at the thought. Thank Merlin I’d played half a dozen scenarios out in my head before actually telling him; I was able to show one of those to Hermione, and she had said it was detailed enough that it could work.

Then she looked at me, her eyes filled with guilt and pity. I was pitied by someone that I had been taught to hate, a witch I had been told over and over again was beneath me because of her birth.

If she was really beneath me, how had she come out on top over and over again?

After she left the Manor, I sat at Draco’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up. The Healer informed us that it would likely take days or maybe even weeks. It didn’t matter. For all of this to work, I had to be the first person he saw when he woke up. I had to be the one who greeted him with a relieved smile and a kiss, to tell him about his flying accident and subsequent brain injury. I had to tell him about our life and about our baby.

I had to lie through my teeth over and over again and hope he believed me. 

I had to hope that Hermione fucking Granger was truly gone from his brain and his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to smithandbarrowman for giving me that excellent quote to use at the beginning. It truly is perfect for this story. And also to coyg_81 for the beautiful cover! 
> 
> Until next Saturday... unless you're following Guarding the Dragon. Then you'll see me much sooner! *wink*


	2. Hermione - October 2005

It had taken three full days, but it was done. I had completely wiped myself from Draco’s memory. Once again, I had violated the mind of someone I loved, someone who loved me. I had broken the promise I made to myself years ago — to never use magic in that way again — because I knew the destruction it wrought. My parents had never regained their memories after the war, and now Draco would suffer the same fate.

 _Obliviate_. 

The one little word that I had now used to push away three people I loved dearly, to make them forget about me while I held on to all my memories of them. 

With my small shoulders squared, I left Malfoy Manor, walking down the long path to the gates with all of Draco’s memories stored in unbreakable vials. There were hundreds. Maybe closer to a thousand. I had not just used _Obliviate_ , blocking the brain from accessing the memories. No, this time, I had completely removed them by using Legilimency on a sedated Draco, prompting his mind to bring me to the forefront. 

He would never be able to remember anything about our affair.

Over the course of two days, I sorted through every memory he had of me from the time we met at age eleven to the most recent — an impassioned bout of lovemaking where I had tried to memorize everything about him. 

Anything with any feelings of love was removed. All sexual encounters, kisses, trips, and gifts were extracted. 

And then I spent the third day sorting through all his memories of Astoria. His wedding day and honeymoon remained since his emotions were mainly positive and hopeful. While he had been feeling a bit conflicted, likely because of our tryst, he was determined to make things with Astoria work. Watching them make love over and over again on the honeymoon had been pure torture. It had been so different from the way he touched me, and I wondered why. The way my stomach churned only reaffirmed my decision — I was doing the right thing. Remembering how he’d told me that he wasn’t attracted to her, my anger blossomed. What I was seeing in his mind clearly contradicted that statement. He was insatiable, and she was beautiful. How could he not be attracted to her? 

The night Astoria told him she was pregnant and he had panicked was removed, mainly because he had come running to me. Astoria had a fantasy, one where she told Draco she was pregnant and he was elated, and I had turned it from fantasy into an altered form of reality, superimposing his feelings of love and excitement from a memory of me into Astoria’s fantasy.

And so it went. I broke his memories of the past eighteen months down into parts, piecing his feelings from our memories onto memories of Astoria. They felt cohesive enough that he shouldn’t question anything. And, if he did, Lucius and Astoria would tell him it was as a result of his injury. I didn’t think the plan to call it a flying accident was wise — Draco flew with an ease that not many wizards possessed and was more likely to fall down the stairs than off of a broomstick — but it was their plan, and they would be the ones who had to stick to that story.

I wouldn’t see him for more than a passing second on the street ever again.

What I had done to him was truly devious and despicable, something akin to placing him under a love spell. It was wrong on so many levels. I had implanted false feelings, false memories, and I felt like I’d taken away an essential part of what made him the person he was. Our relationship had changed so many things for him, and now it was all gone. I’d introduced him to the Muggle world and educated him in a way that no one else ever would. His prejudice had been completely erased, and he was a better, happier person for it. I’d shown him kindness, compassion, and forgiveness in a way he’d never seen before, and he made it a goal to emulate those things with his own actions. Now, all of the experiences that shaped the new Draco Malfoy didn’t exist anymore, and it was all my fault.

When I got home, I immediately started pacing around my living room and crying. I kept rationalizing what I had done, repeating the same things over and over in my head. We had essentially carried on an eighteen-month affair. He had a wife. For the past six months, he’d had a pregnant wife. No matter how much he claimed he loved me, he was still sleeping with Astoria. When I found out, I’d been horrified; he always told me things that made me think they weren’t intimate — he didn’t want her, he only wanted me. He wasn’t attracted to her… 

This was honestly for the best. I shouldn’t have been okay with being the other witch in his life. I shouldn’t have been enabling him to cheat. I needed to let go and move on — he wasn’t going to leave her. Lucius would never allow it. 

And, the icing on the cake — if I didn’t erase myself from Draco’s memory, his father was going to travel to Australia and kill my parents. I had no idea how he’d found them; I had only told Kingsley and one healer at St. Mungo’s their location when I’d found them, and only the healer, Harry, Ron, and I knew their changed names.

How had I let this happen? How had I let one night of hot sex at The Leaky Cauldron, of all places, turn into such a fucking mess? How had I let myself travel down a path that was sure to lead to heartbreak? How could I remove the truth and plant lies in Draco’s mind?

Rationally, I knew I did it for him — I wanted him to be happy in his new life and feel love in his relationship. Since his new life would not include me, I had tried to ensure both of these things in a roundabout way. I knew that erasing his memories, especially without consulting him first, was a selfish thing for me to do. Why should he live his life without love because of a decision that I made for him?

After an hour or so, I finally collapsed on my bed, burying my face in his pillow and breathing in the scent of his cologne and shampoo. It was silly, but it made me feel closer to him. I knew this would hurt, that living with the memory of Draco would be hard. I knew it would gut me to imagine him with Astoria, to know he wouldn’t remember me and that he would love her now. 

Knowing it would hurt ahead of time hadn’t made my reality any easier to deal with.

While I was still blubbering into Draco’s pillow, Blaise Zabini came through my Floo. He was the only one who knew the whole story, all of the sordid details, about my affair with Draco. He had found us together after the first night, and he had been the only one to realise we were sneaking around together. He was also Draco’s best friend, and he’d somehow morphed into my confidant over the past year.

I heard his footsteps coming towards the bedroom, expensive Italian loafers slapping against the hardwood floors of my hallway. He stopped in the doorway, observing my face-down position.

“Tesoro,” he called, using the nickname I absolutely loved and hated simultaneously. “It’s time for you to sit up. You need to breathe.”

I petulantly ignored him, continuing to sob into the pillow. I heard him approaching the bed, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into a sitting position. He smoothed my wayward curls away from my face and started wiping my tears away with a handkerchief. 

“You were supposed to Floo call me when you got back from the Manor today. I didn’t want you to be alone, Hermione,” he reminded me.

“Blaise, there is nothing you can do. He’s gone. My Draco is gone,” I choked. “It was my choice, but it still fucking hurts.”

Like the sure and steady friend he was, Blaise just held me and let me cry. Eventually, I was so exhausted that I just fell asleep. Rather than going home, he tucked himself into bed beside me. He was there if I needed him and he didn’t have any ulterior motives; he didn’t want to shag me or anything like that. He just refused to leave me alone since I was in a right state. 

Honestly, if anyone had ever told me that I’d fall in love with a married Draco Malfoy, break up with him in the most painful way possible, and then be comforted by Blaise Zabini, I would’ve told them they’d had too much Firewhisky.

That night, my dreams were haunted by all of the memories I had created for Draco. They played on a loop in my mind, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was good because it reinforced that Draco was gone, and it was bad because it fucking hurt to watch them over and over again. I believed the memories, so I hoped that meant Draco would, too; I wanted him to be happy in his new life, with Astoria and their new baby when he or she arrived in January. He was going to make an excellent father.

When morning came, Blaise Floo called Harry, telling him that we wouldn’t be coming to work. I knew Harry was likely already anticipating this; I had confessed my affair with Draco and the plan to Obliviate him to Harry a few weeks prior, and he had been furious with me. He was even more furious that I was going to perform an experimental charm on Malfoy over and over again. It was illegal, and we all — Harry, Blaise, Draco and I — worked for the DMLE. I didn’t tell him everything and he was angry I was holding back until I explained to him that he could plead ignorance if things went wrong.

I stayed in bed for most of the day, refusing to do anything or talk to anyone. I could feel the splinters of my heart jabbing at my insides, and my eyes were completely devoid of moisture. I’d cried too much already. Blaise continuously tried to interact with me, but I froze him out, rolling over to face away from him and ignoring whatever he said to me. Harry came by after work to try his luck, and I didn’t respond to him, either.

However, Harry returned with Pansy, his wife of three years, and she was never afraid to hurt me with her words. 

“How could you do this to him, Granger?!” she shrieked. “I mean, I don’t know how you two ended up where you did, but if he was happy after all these years, how could you take that away from him?”

When I didn’t answer, she continued, “He’s been in a living hell since fifth year. I thought he was happier because he had Astoria! I thought she was the one who had been helping him and changing him. But it’s been you the whole damn time. I can see it clearly now. You were the one making him happy!”

I sat up, throwing curses at her with my eyes. “Even if he was happy, what we were doing was wrong, Pansy. _Astoria is pregnant_.”

She walked over to the bed and stopped in front of me. I thought she was going to do the unfathomable and try to comfort me. Boy, was I wrong.

She looked straight at me and slapped me across the face. 

“You carried on an affair with him. Not a short one, but a long-term affair. You made him fall all the way in love with you, and then you violated his fucking mind! Don’t you know how hard he worked to learn Occlumency and keep people out of his mind during the war?!”

“Of course I know! We talked about everything, Pansy! This wasn’t just a sexual thing! We were in love! I am still in love with him to the point where I feel like I will never be the same!” I shouted, my voice cracking from all of the crying and disuse. 

“Good! You should feel that way, Granger! He’s certainly never going to be the same again! You might have turned him into a drooling shell of who he used to be!”

Pansy had a knack for finding every insecurity I possessed, even after school had ended for us. She knew exactly how to hit me where it hurt and never held back. 

Rubbing my stinging cheek, I rolled my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Pansy! I had a healer there monitoring his brain function the whole time! I’m not a moron!”

“You are a fucking moron! How could you give up true love, Granger? And, if you really did love him, how could you take his happiness away?!”

Blaise stepped in, pulling Pansy away from me. “Pans, we’re all upset. You need to sit down and take a breath. What’s done is done—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Blaise! How could you let her do this to him?! He’s your best fucking mate! You knew he was obsessed with her from fifth year on!” the dark-haired witch screamed. “You let her destroy him! He may not even be Draco when he wakes up!”

Blaise looked her in the eyes. “No. He’ll be Draco when he wakes up, but he’ll be the Draco we knew before he married Astoria. He’ll have a fascination with Hermione, and he’s got a head full of memories of a loving marriage with Astoria now.”

Pansy’s mouth hung open, making my guilt flare up even more. “Not only did you remove yourself, but you altered his memories of Astoria? He never fucking loved her!”

I covered my face with my hands, not wanting Pansy to see the devastation written across my face. Surely she’d be able to see my insecurities, my doubts, if I let her. I had to defend my actions — this had been the best thing for everyone involved. Of course I knew better than anyone that Draco hadn’t loved Astoria. He knew he’d fucked things up when he married her. He’d told me over and over again. He loved me, had always wanted me, and thought he’d never be able to have me.

I got lost in my own thoughts and memories. I could vaguely hear Pansy, Harry, and Blaise talking to each other around me, but I wasn’t comprehending what they were saying. Somehow, my refusal to speak had turned into them all shouting at each other. This whole situation was fucked up, and it was all my fault, but it really didn’t need to be debated at this point. It was already done.

But I couldn’t force myself to make eye contact with any of them and stop the fighting. I was tired. So fucking tired of thinking and feeling. All of _my_ fight was gone.

“Draco isn’t innocent in all of this. She tried to avoid him before any of this began. She’s tried to break things off with him more than once, but you know what he’s like! He wouldn’t stop until he had her!” Blaise shouted.

Blaise’s defense gave me the nudge I needed. I lifted my head, and I was met with an icy glare from Pansy. “Well, you should have fought harder, Granger! You should have kept your fucking cunt covered and stayed away from him! He was a married man!”

I had forgotten how vulgar Pansy could get when she was pissed off. Her words infuriated me; it wasn’t like I had been strutting around the office in crotchless knickers and flashing Draco whenever I had the chance. No, in fact, I had tried to avoid him, just like Blaise had said. However, there weren’t many places in the DMLE to hide. I didn’t want to tell my superior that I’d had sex with Malfoy while drunk and he wouldn’t leave me alone without an encore performance. And, on top of that, I had also been obsessing over him, soaking up the attention he was giving me like I’d never have another man look at me again.

“You think I don’t know that?! You think I don’t regret sleeping with him the first time?!” I yelled, finally losing the final vestiges of my restraint. “I was drunk, Pansy! Completely pissed off my arse when it all started! But after the first time, neither of us could stop thinking about the other, and I tried my best to stay away from him!”

She just kept glaring at me. 

After a few tense moments, she hissed, “I swear to Salazar, Granger, if he wakes up and doesn’t remember anything about his life, I will never fucking forgive you. I’m barely holding back right now. I want to cut off your hand so that you can never cast another fucking _Obliviate_ ever again.”

More tears, a mix of both devastated and angry, poured from my eyes. “Honestly, I wish you would,” I confessed, my heart somehow breaking further. 

This seemed to silence everybody for a few minutes. Eventually, Blaise looked over to Harry and Pansy. “She hasn’t eaten all day. She’s only gotten out of bed once to use the loo.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that Harry was going to start mothering me immediately. I didn’t want to eat. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t do anything. I’d used up every bit of energy I had yelling at Pansy. Why couldn’t they leave me in peace to grieve? I just needed a few days to myself before I could talk to anyone else about my fucking feelings because, in that moment, I didn’t even really know what I was feeling.

Harry came over and stood beside the bed, looking straight into my bloodshot eyes. “Hermione, do you want me to go to the Burrow? I can get some of your favorite things from Molly.”

“No! None of the Weasleys can know about this!” I squeaked.

“I wasn’t going to tell them you’re not eating because you and Draco Malfoy broke up. I’m not bloody stupid. I was going to tell Molly that you’re ill,” he explained.

“No, Harry. Honestly, I just want to be left alone for a few days. Give me this week to sort myself out a bit.”

I watched as they all looked at each other. It was obvious they didn’t trust me to care for myself. Blaise looked to me and said, “I’m coming every day to check on you, Hermione. I don’t care what you say. If you ward the Floo and stop me from Apparating in, I’ll take down your wards. I know how to do it.”

“Fine,” I replied, my tone sullen. “I’m not planning on doing much of anything. Come back whenever you’d like.”

“And I’m not leaving now until you bloody well eat something and have some water,” Harry added. “Get your arse out of bed and into the kitchen.”

With a sigh, my feet hit the cold floor and I wrapped myself in a bathrobe; I had only been wearing a sleep tank and pyjama shorts and the autumn air made me shiver. I walked towards the kitchen and Harry caught up, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He kissed the top of my head, just like he’d done a thousand times since we'd met. Like always, his touch raised mixed emotions in me. We’d had our struggles and drifted apart after the war, but he was still the closest thing I had to a family.

“I love you, Hermione. I might not agree with the choices you made when it comes to Malfoy, but I want to be here for you regardless,” he said, trying to soothe me.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes again. I had disappointed Harry, and that was somehow worse than disappointing myself. Maybe because I knew I had such lofty expectations for myself, or maybe because Harry and I hadn’t had a true fight, one with screaming and hurtful words being thrown, since third year, until this affair came to light. Mostly, our arguments in adulthood had involved drifting apart and stony silences.

“I know, Harry. I love you, too.”

* * *

I spent most of the week sleeping. When I was conscious, I was thinking about Draco. I wanted to know if he had woken yet, what his mental state was. Was he confused? Did he feel like there was something missing? I wanted to know what Lucius and Astoria had told him. Did they really go with the flying accident story? Was he overjoyed at the prospect of being a father now? Or was he still afraid?

And when I moved around my house, I kept encountering things that made me cry. Every little trinket or piece of jewellery or book that he’d ever given me brought tears to my eyes. After the first few days, I started to pack everything up. Even though that hurt, it was more painful to constantly be reminded of Draco. Every item held a distinct memory for me — one of a caring, loving Draco that I would never see again — and I couldn’t stop replaying them in my head with all the items scattered throughout the house. 

Blaise kept his word, coming to check on me every single day. He brought me food I couldn’t possibly resist. Rather than losing weight, I was sure I’d start gaining it. Plates upon plates of pasta and cheese and Italian desserts found their way into my house. One night, he even brought enough to feed four people and, sure enough, Harry and Ron came through my Floo. Unfortunately, we all had to lie to Ron, which was difficult. Harry had told him that I was seeing someone in France, and I’d broken things off because I didn’t want to move there.

I was so sick of my life being filled with lies, but I couldn’t help it — I wasn’t about to tell Ronald Weasley, the most judgmental human being on the planet, that I’d been fucking a married man for over a year. Oh, and nevermind what would happen if I uttered the name Draco Malfoy in his presence. He’d be off on a two-day tangent.

I tried to act normally. I tried to read both fiction and nonfiction. I tried to write both creatively and scholarly. But nothing felt normal. Nothing was coming out right.

Somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself. I didn’t know what _I_ enjoyed anymore. I was so used to just reading a chapter of a book to pass the time until Draco could get away. Most nights, he’d have dinner with Astoria and then come to my house. Or, if we were really lucky, he’d tell her he was on assignment and spend a few days with me. She had never questioned him.

Obviously, that had all started to change when she got pregnant.

On the fifth day of my self-imposed isolation, I put on a pair of jeans and a warm jumper, along with a pair of tall boots I could easily tuck my wand into the side of. I walked outside and tilted my face up towards the sun, feeling the warmth of the rays on my skin. It was a lovely autumn day and I decided to go for a walk. My house was isolated, basically a small cottage on the edge of the woods, and there was a path through the trees that led to a small village. If I followed the path, the walk would be a little over a mile.

I had recently invested in an iPod, so I slipped my headphones in for the walk. Unfortunately, the shuffle feature on this device must have been designed to play the kinds of songs I wanted to hear the least — love songs, songs about heartbreak — poured into my ears, and I found myself walking along the path with tears flowing. When I glanced to my left, I swore I could almost see Draco, could almost feel his body heat against my arm and his fingers laced through mine. We had taken this walk together numerous times and I could clearly picture him beside me, his white-blond hair illuminated by the afternoon sun. 

I was well and truly losing it.

By the time I reached the edge of town, I had managed to settle down. There were a few small restaurants, a coffee shop, a few privately owned stores selling anything from clothing to yarn and knitting supplies to cigarettes, and a very small grocer. I looked around and saw that most of the shops were open. Steeling myself, I walked into the small coffee shop, hoping I’d be able to stomach a pastry and a coffee. I had to regain my strength and return to work this week. 

When I walked through the door, the woman who generally worked the morning shift smiled at me. “Good morning, Hermione! On your own today?”

Another stab to the gut.

“I am,” I replied. “Do you have any good muffins this morning? I’m feeling a bit hungry.”

She nodded and began preparing my usual cinnamon latte. “Apple or pumpkin? We’ve got all of the autumn flavors going!”

Pumpkin always reminded me of meals at Hogwarts or pumpkin pasties on the train, and I was feeling thoroughly non-magical at the moment.

“Apple,” I replied. 

“Just the one? Or will you be meeting Draco later on? I know he loves apple things from last autumn!” the woman exclaimed.

_Of course. She’s female and has a set of eyes. I’m sure she was sad that I was alone, not bringing a handsome man along with me today._

“Just me. Draco… well, he won’t be around anymore,” I said, ripping the plaster off. The few pieces of my heart I’d managed to glue back together crumbled again.

She pursed her lips, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. She settled on, “I’m sorry to hear that, Hermione.”

I just nodded and pulled out my Muggle money, paying her for the latte and the apple pastry. Not willing to be scrutinized, I stepped out onto the porch of the coffee shop. I sat at one of the small cafe tables, prepared to drink my coffee and eat what I could. As soon as the first sip of latte passed my lips, I sighed. It was perfect, as usual, and it warmed me up from the inside out. My stomach didn’t immediately revolt, so I opened the small paper bag and took the pastry out.

I looked down at it. How had I already forgotten he loved apple? Maybe I should’ve gone with the pumpkin, after all. Hogwarts held no positive memories of Draco for me.

I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth, and it was delicious. The woman was right — he would’ve loved it. However, I didn’t let myself get caught up in that thought; I had errands to run. I needed to purchase food that was not pasta and cheese, I had to post a letter to Monica and Wendell in Australia via the Muggle mail system, and I had to stay out of my house for at least another two hours. I needed sun and fresh air and to start trying to move on.

I made it through my to-do list robotically. I purchased fruit and green vegetables. I made sure to buy some coffee for my pot at home, along with milk and some sugar so I wouldn’t have to go back into town for a pick-me-up and see the pity in their eyes. Next, I walked to the post office and sent the letter that should’ve been mailed days ago, wishing my parents a happy wedding anniversary and promising a visit next year. Despite the pain it caused me, I still traveled to Australia to see them every other year, posing as the daughter of a cousin who had business in Australia from time to time. Even if they didn’t know I was their daughter, I still knew they were my parents, and I wouldn’t completely abandon them. 

After I was through with the two main tasks, I still had another hour to kill, so I stopped into the knitting supply store. It had been years since I had knitted, but I imagined it would help me to pass the time over the weekend. I was going to try making something for Harry and Pansy’s baby. Oddly enough, the newest Potter would arrive around the same time as the Malfoy heir. Ron and Luna had also welcomed a little girl last year — Stella — and I was going to knit her something, as well.

Inwardly, I laughed. Ginny and I had been so sure that we’d be the ones married to Harry and Ron, starting families at a young age. Instead, here I was, alone after having an affair with a married man, and Ginny was also alone, traveling the world with her Quidditch team, probably having the time of her life. Pansy and Luna had quickly filled our places after we’d managed to muck up our post-war relationships.

I thought on that a bit more as I made the journey back through the woods. Would I have been better off if I’d just settled down with Ron? Could I have been happy, ensconced in the Weasley family? 

Maybe.

But then I never would’ve fallen in love with Draco. Despite how things had ended, I couldn’t fathom never experiencing that kind of love, the kind of intensity I felt with him, like my world both started and ended with him, everything in between filled with the stolen moments between us. Before him, it was something I’d only ever read about in old novels.

The tears threatened again, but I managed to hold them back. I was determined not to cry when I went back to work, so I needed to practice now. I couldn’t be seen weeping around the office.

When I arrived home, there was an owl perched on my window. I froze, knowing exactly who it was from. I just stared at it, and it looked back at me curiously. 

I entered the house, motioning for the owl to fly in through the door. Perching on the back of a dining chair, it held its leg out to me. I untied the thick parchment scroll and unrolled it.

  
  


_Ms. Granger,_

_He’s awake, and it appears you’ve done your job properly. He doesn’t remember a thing from the past year and a half. You are officially gone from his life, and he is looking at Astoria like she hung the moon._

_Do take care, and make sure you avoid him at all costs. I wouldn’t want him to have another broom accident._

_LM_

  
  


It was over. Draco didn’t remember anything other than what I’d allowed him to, and he felt something resembling love for Astoria.

In my head, I sent my thoughts towards him. 

_I will hold on to the memory of you. I’ll remember everything for both of us._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to the tiny first chapter has absolutely blown me away. Thank you all so much for reading.
> 
> If you want to know how Harry and Pansy started out, check out the first two parts of this series. I may eventually add more to their story, but no promises! I'm busy typing away on this one at the moment.
> 
> Let me know how you feel about Hermione. We'll see Draco next Saturday. 
> 
> As always, love to my Alpha/Beta team. They've helped me so much along the way with this one.


	3. Draco - November 2005

It had been a month since my accident and I was still confined to the Manor. I didn’t want to be there. Despite living there my whole childhood, it felt unfamiliar. My father assured me it was just because Astoria and I had bought our own home and I hadn’t lived in the Manor for over a year. The healer had also explained that most things were going to feel or appear different to me until my brain relearned the people in my life and my surroundings.

The biggest mystery of all was how I’d managed to have a flying accident. I’d been flying my whole life, and I’d never even fallen from my broom during a Quidditch match or Auror mission. How had I managed to crash my broom on the Manor grounds? There had to be more to it.

And then there was Astoria. 

My thoughts about her were the most disjointed. I remembered the arranged marriage. I knew I had felt ambivalent about it, but somehow resigned and determined to make it work. I could almost sense a longing for someone else, but their face never came to mind. Sometimes, when I thought about my wife, the most jarring sense of loss and annoyance would hit me. Other times, I felt an all-consuming love for her. It was soul-deep and unshakable. The two feelings were so at odds with each other that I didn’t really know what to make of it.

The strongest happy memory of Astoria I could muster was the night she told me she was pregnant. I saw myself, clearly elated, wrapping her in my arms and snogging her senseless before leading her to bed to celebrate. I didn’t remember arousal, but I clearly felt excitement and love. In the memories from our honeymoon, I didn’t feel love, but I definitely felt arousal. It seemed like my brain was full of contradictions.

I looked over at my wife; she hadn’t left my side since I’d woken, and I was very grateful for that. She always made sure I had everything I needed and was comfortable. She tried to help me remember things, but nothing seemed to stick. No matter what anyone did, I couldn’t access most of my memories from the past few years; it felt like there were gaping holes in my mind. 

Noticing my gaze, Astoria smiled at me warmly. “How are you feeling, darling?” she asked, and I bristled, though I wasn’t sure why.

“I’m okay. I think I’d like to get up and go for a walk. The healer said I need to start moving around more. Maybe if I walk back towards my old room, I’ll remember something else,” I replied.

Astoria looked hesitant for a moment — only a split second — but it was long enough for me to notice. After that, she stood and made her way over to me, taking my hand and steadying me when I stood. I was worried about hurting her; she’d always been so fragile when we were younger. I could remember Daphne fussing over her and making sure she didn’t overexert herself. I hoped a walk down the winding hallway of the Manor wouldn’t be too taxing on her in her delicate condition. 

“Okay, Draco, do you feel like I can let go?” 

I nodded and took a few steps. Minus the tightness in my underutilized muscles, I felt completely fine for the first time in a month. I quickened my pace and headed for the door, leaving Astoria in my wake. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw her walking slowly, one hand gently resting on her distended abdomen. Her face showed a myriad of emotions — anxiety, happiness, a bit of hope — and I wondered why she was so conflicted all the time.

I felt something close to a crack in my heart — love, tinged with a bit of panic at my impending fatherhood, maybe — and I waited for her. She was my wife and the mother of my child. She was who I had in my life, and I must have been happy before the accident. I could feel it in some memories of her, even if it was completely lacking in others. Realistically, there was no way you could love your spouse every minute of every day, right?

I didn’t know why, but I felt like I could do that, like I  _ had _ done that. 

I thought about the way my father treated my mother, and I’d always intended to be the same kind of husband. Doting. Devoted. Open with my wife about everything, and that was clearly not how things had been between us. 

Where had that unquestionable love gone? Had something happened between us? Why did Astoria feel somewhat foreign to me?

Had I never treated her properly?

I waited for her and rested my hand over hers, gently rubbing the spot where our child grew. She looked up at me, surprised. 

“What?” I asked. “I’m sure I’ve done this a hundred times before. I was so excited when you told me about the baby. I felt it.”

Her blue eyes clouded for a moment and she looked away. Again, I noticed her hesitation. “Of course you have. You just haven’t done it since you’ve woken up. I was surprised.”

Her reaction was unusual, but I accepted it. Everything felt strange, so I was beginning to think that maybe it was just a figment of my imagination. Maybe everything would feel off for a while.

We meandered through the Manor, stopping every so often for me to examine something. When we arrived at my childhood bedroom, it felt more familiar than anything else had. I walked around, looking at all of the items on my built-in bookshelves. I saw photos from Hogwarts — Pansy and I together at the Yule Ball, Blaise and I flying in spirals on our broomsticks, my parents and I after we’d all survived the Battle of Hogwarts.

I read over the titles of the books I’d kept there, and I found a few that didn’t make any sense.  _ Lord of the Rings. Crime and Punishment. The DaVinci Code _ .

“Astoria, these books… Where did they come from?” I asked, unable to remember ever reading them. 

She looked over the titles, just as hesitant to reply as she had been before, and answered, “I’m not sure. Maybe they’re the Muggle books that Hermione Granger always gives out as gifts at Christmas. You’ve worked with her for years and she’s always trying to get you to read new things.”

_ Granger _ ? Had I been friends with her? Or did we just work together?

“Are we friends?” I questioned, needing to know the answer.

My heart was racing at the thought. After everything in our past, surely she’d never give  _ me _ the time of day.

She looked at me and took a deep breath. “You had a working relationship, from what I understand. She gave books to a lot of people in the DMLE. I don’t know how friendly you were overall. I don’t think you saw her outside of the office."

Interesting. Maybe I’d made amends since I worked with her and Potter, but I didn’t think we’d have been friendly enough to exchange holiday gifts… I tried to imagine what I’d given Granger for Christmas. Maybe some obscure magical books or new quills or a bottle of expensive wine. Those were all things that came to mind when I thought of her — the books and quills were obvious, but the wine would be to help her relax. I was sure she was married to her job.

“Astoria, is she married to Weasley? I can’t remember.”

She shook her head. “No, they split pretty soon after the war. He married Luna Lovegood a few years back.”

I nodded, trying to picture Granger at work. I saw her in a red dress, standing tall next to her office door and smiling while we chatted. Her hair was tamed into a knot at the base of her skull. 

“I can’t remember anything about her really… I can see myself talking to her at one point or another. We must have been somewhat friendly. There were no hexes being thrown,” I mused. “Maybe I’ll try to read these when I’m feeling a bit more focused.”

“I’ll ask your father to send them to our house. He’s been planning on going through all of the things in here, anyway. He says it’s time to pack up your childhood since you’re twenty-five now,” Astoria said with a warm smile.

I nodded and continued moving around the room, finding some out-of-place Muggle clothing and shoes. I knew it was Muggle from interacting with the Muggle-born students at Hogwarts; their attire was always so… casual. When I looked at Astoria questioningly again, she simply said, “They’re for when you have to go into Muggle areas for work.”

“But why are they here and not at our house?” I asked. “We don’t live here. Why would I keep work clothing here?”

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “Maybe they’re old? You were working in the DMLE before we got married. You have some at home, as well.”

I felt like I was ending up with more questions than answers at this point, so I resolved to stop searching for anything that could jog my memory for the time being. The healer had told me not to force it, to let things come back naturally. He explained I may never get everything back, and that was something I’d have to accept over time. Sighing, I took Astoria’s hand again.

“Let’s get out of here. Looking at all of this stuff is just confusing me more,” I stated.

She led me out and stroked her thumb over the back of my hand. 

“Draco, I’m here for you,” she began. “I’ll answer whatever questions you have. We’ll get through this together. I promise.”

However, I couldn’t help but remember how hesitant she’d been when I’d asked questions or how my touch had surprised her. I wasn’t certain she’d be the one to give me the answers I needed.

* * *

A few days later, Astoria was seeing her healer for a baby check-up, so my mother and father were sitting with me. My mother was prattling on about baby clothes and nursery decorations and my father looked as bored as I felt. As excited as I was to have a child, I didn’t relish preparing a room or waxing poetic of the merits of blue versus green. Of course, my parents were assuming the child was an heir, a male, because no females had been born into the Malfoy line in centuries. 

“Narcissa,” my father interrupted. “I think you’re forgetting that you’re not sitting with Astoria right now. Draco and I don’t care whether you paint the walls of the nursery grey or blue or green. We just want the baby to arrive safely so they can sleep in that room. Right?”

“Of course, Father,” I answered automatically. “Astoria can be so fragile. I’m praying the delivery goes smoothly.”

Both of my parents nodded. My mother pursed her lips, seemingly lost for words. “I was wondering, Draco, is your memory getting any clearer?”

I was frustrated with this question. I’d been asked so many times already, and I felt like I was letting everyone down by not remembering anything new. I searched my brain, trying to think of any detail I’d remembered and could discuss with them. When my mind landed on the Muggle items in my room, I figured that would be a safe bet.

“Well, Astoria and I walked down to my old bedroom the other day and I found some unusual things in there,” I commented.

My father raised an eyebrow, gesturing for me to continue. “Muggle books and clothing. Astoria told me that they’re from work. The books were likely gifts from Hermione Granger. Apparently we work together and she likes to give them out to purebloods at Christmas.”

My mother looked paler than usual and my father appeared to be holding his breath, so I kept talking. “I guess the Muggle clothing was for when I had to be in Muggle areas. Who knew I could blend in so well?”

The joke fell flat, my parents both looking uncomfortable. 

“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore, Draco,” my father responded. “I don’t think you’ll be able to return to your former position with an injury of this nature. No more chasing down dark wizards with Potter or late nights in the office. You’ll have to settle for being a proper pureblood heir now.”

I looked at him, confused. “Why couldn’t I return to it, Father? From what I remember, I loved my job and I’m having no issue making new memories. I remember the majority of my training. I know I have to recuperate for awhile, but—”

“You’re going to be a father, Draco,” my mother said. “You will not go back to that dangerous line of work with all of those Gryffindor idiots!”

“Blaise works with me. He’s not a Gryffindor idiot,” I pointed out.

My father glared at me. “No, you talked him into joining with you. You don’t need to be on Potter’s hero squad, Draco. You need to spend time with Astoria and the baby. Take some time off and think about it before you make a rash decision. You’ve been in some close calls since joining the Auror office.” 

“We’ll see,” I conceded. “I was planning on taking a few months off after the baby is born. Who knows if I’ll even be fully recovered when he or she is born.”

They seemed appeased, so I told them I was tired. I wanted them to leave the room; I couldn’t deal with their forceful personalities or opinions at the moment. My head was aching, my brain trying to make connections that just didn’t seem to be there anymore. More than anything, I wanted to know why I seemed to remember most of my day-to-day life, but there were some parts with huge gaps. It didn’t seem to follow any sort of rhyme or reason, and analyzing it didn’t help much.

Once I was alone, I stood up and walked around the room, trying to regain some of the strength and stamina I’d lost from weeks in bed while my brain was still a bit swollen. In the beginning, I’d been prone to dizzy spells and I’d fallen a fair few times before I had been relegated to the bed. Now, I could walk around on my own without endangering my recovery, though I hadn’t yet tried to navigate stairs.

I thought back to the Muggle books and clothing. They’d certainly evoked a strange response from my parents, like they hadn’t known I was friends with Granger. Surely they must have — Astoria knew, and I was sure my father had been the type to keep tabs on me at work. He had to have known I was interacting with Hermione. It was definitely something to continue considering over time. Maybe I’d try to work the Muggle books into another conversation down the line. 

When Astoria got home an hour later, she was smiling widely, both hands pressed against her abdomen. “Draco! The healer said everything is progressing wonderfully. They’re still offering to tell us the gender, but I didn’t want to find out without you. Do you want to know? Or would you rather be surprised?”

I considered her words for a moment. A whisper of a thought, something I was sure I’d said before, played through my mind.  _ If I was ever having a child, I’d want to be surprised. There aren’t very many surprises in adult life,  _ I’d said. I wondered if Astoria had forgotten this conversation, or if I’d had it with someone else. I couldn’t imagine openly discussing pregnancy and childbearing with anyone else, but the thought was there.

“I think I want to be surprised, Stori,” I replied, sticking with that thought. “I mean, how many more big surprises will we get in this life?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Draco. He's so confused and wants to figure everything out.
> 
> We're going to check in with Hermione next week, and we'll see a tiny glimpse of past Dramione. Just a warning, the angst/triggers I have tagged are going to be pretty heavy in the early Hermione chapters. She's kind of a mess.
> 
> One other thing I don't think I've mentioned... there will be no pattern to who's narrating. We will mainly see Hermione and Draco with the occasional Astoria and one other person... who will make an appearance in Chapter 5.
> 
> As always, leave me your thoughts or feel free to reach out!


	4. Hermione - December 2005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Hermione's mental state really deteriorates in this chapter. Mostly depression, some alcohol abuse, etc.

I stared at myself in the mirror, examining my gaunt face and haunted eyes. Lack of sleep and nutrition were beginning to take their toll on me. It had been almost three months since I’d erased Draco’s memory, and I was still fixated on his absence. No matter how I tried to fill my time, he was always in the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t even imagine a future at this point.

Every morning, I peeled myself out of bed after too little sleep and went through my routine. I’d take a shower, do my hair and makeup, and get dressed. I tried not to focus on how I was magically altering some of my clothing, choosing the drabbest, least noticeable pieces possible. I could see that I was slowly wasting away, but I didn’t let myself fully acknowledge it. I was eating and sleeping as much as I could. 

On really bad nights, I would drink wine to calm myself down and fall into a drunken slumber. I’d started brewing a hangover remedy to have on hand, but I wouldn’t acknowledge that as a problem either; I was only twenty-six. It was perfectly acceptable to drink at that age and need a hangover potion in the morning. I even shared my wine with Blaise or Ginny from time to time. Ron and Harry were too busy with their families to come and spend time with me. 

I drank way too much coffee and, when I ate, it was usually just something light. I couldn’t stomach heavy food, so I stuck to fruits and salads unless Blaise was there to make me eat something more substantial.

When I walked into the office the Friday before Christmas, I found a take-away latte and a slice of coffee cake on my desk. Harry winked at me from his office, and I smiled back. He started walking over to talk to me, and I got nervous. 

_ He’s going to lecture me about how I’m not eating or sleeping enough. He’s going to tell me it’s time to just bloody get over it already. He’s going to tell me that Pansy won’t let me join them for Christmas because of what I’ve done to Draco. He’s realized that I’m not the same person I once was, and he doesn’t want to be friends anymore. He’s finally going to stop including me in everything. _

However, when Harry stepped through my door, he did nothing of the sort, and that made me feel like shite. How could I just believe the worst of my best friend? Why would I ever think that Harry would abandon me? He never had, and he never would, just like I would never abandon him. He simply verified the Christmas dinner time with me, and he told me that Molly had been asking if I was going to the Burrow or not on Christmas Eve. I told Harry I’d owl her, and he nodded.

“You aren’t feeling up to going there this year, huh?” he asked, sympathy in his eyes.

“Not at all,” I admitted. “It somehow makes me feel even more lonely. I mean, they’re all married and have families.”

“Ginny doesn’t have any of that yet, Hermione. It’s not like you’re the only one who is single,” Harry commented.

“I know that. I just... I can’t this year, Harry. I want to be alone. I want to reflect on what happened. Last year, I spent Christmas Eve with Draco in France. I’m going to be doing nothing but wishing I was there again.”

“That’s not healthy, Hermione. You should be keeping yourself busy and surrounded by people who love you.”

At that moment, Blaise sauntered up to my open door. “She will be, Potter. I’m going to whisk her away to Italy for the night. We can have wine and delicious food and celebrate together.”

I was ready to leap into his arms. He had just saved me from a huge guilt trip, courtesy of Harry James Potter. I hoped he didn’t actually expect me to go to Italy, but I would if I absolutely had to. Blaise’s company was certainly preferable to a horde of happy Weasleys with their perfect marriages and children. Without even trying, they all made me feel inadequate, and I knew Molly would look from Ginny to me with disappointment. We were the two  _ daughters _ and the only single ones left. We were both married to our careers and didn’t seem to care about much else. Once I said I wasn’t dating anyone, she would lecture me about the importance of having a social life and leaving the office at a reasonable hour. I wouldn’t be able to handle that this year.

“Are you really going with him?” Harry asked, trying to make sure I wasn’t going to spend the night alone.

“I guess I am, though it’s a relatively new plan for me,” I answered. “Where in Italy are you taking me, Blaise?”

“We’re obviously heading to Venice! It’s lovely at Christmas, and I booked us a suite at a hotel right on the canal. You’ll adore it,” Blaise raved.

I couldn’t deny that it sounded like my best option at the moment, and I needed to say I was doing something otherwise I would be dragged unceremoniously to the Burrow. If I stayed home, I’d just be pining for my lost lover and that certainly wouldn’t be good for me. 

“So, you’re going to abandon Christmas with the Weasleys to stay in a hotel with him?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with judgment.

Blaise laughed. “We’re not going to fuck, Potter. We’re friends. I know how she spent Christmas Eve last year, and I’m getting her the hell out of here so she doesn’t spend her night alone. She doesn’t want to be around tons of happily married people. Don’t you get that?”

Backpedaling, Harry stammered, “I-I didn’t m-mean—”

“You did, Harry,” I began. “I know you weren’t being malicious, but you were going to be upset if Blaise and I planned to spend the night together sexually.”

Blaise smirked, making the atmosphere less tense. “I know what she’s been through, Potter — more than  _ anyone _ else does — and I think I know what’s best for her right now.”

Harry looked resentful, not wanting to admit that anyone knew me better than he did. But Blaise was right; he had been there from the start of my relationship with Draco until the very end. He had been my only constant. Between Pansy and being a new parent, Harry had been so wrapped up in his new life that I didn’t want to bother him with my moral dilemmas or newfound love for Draco. On top of that, I didn’t want Pansy to know about the affair — she wasn’t the type to stay silent and likely would’ve confronted Draco about it. She was also friends with Astoria’s sister, Daphne. And I refused to ask Harry to hide something like that from his wife.

“It’s not personal, Potter. I just ended up being there for both Draco and Hermione through their whole affair. Wrong or right, they both knew they could count on me to keep their secret. I’ll make sure she’s back in time for dinner at your house on Sunday,” Blaise said, dismissing Harry.

Harry looked at me, trying to determine if I was upset or didn’t want Blaise whisking me away, but he eventually nodded and left my office. Zabini closed the door and leaned against it.

“You know we’re actually going, right, Granger?”

I nodded, knowing I really had no choice at all. Now that he had involved Harry, I had to agree. It had been a sneak attack to tie my hands.

* * *

Venice was lovely, and Blaise was able to take my mind off of Draco for a while. We walked the narrow streets taking in the lovely Christmas decorations and observing carolers. It was cold so we had cast warming charms over ourselves. The Rialto Bridge was lit beautifully and there were masses being performed in all the old churches. Earlier in the day, I had spent a small fortune on gifts for Harry and the Weasleys. At one point, I was examining a pair of expensive Italian leather shoes for Draco, and then it hit me.

I wasn’t going to be buying Draco gifts. Ever again.

Draco was gone. 

I was alone again. Even if Blaise had pitied me and taken me to Venice for Christmas Eve, I was alone. I didn’t have anyone who loved me, who longed for my touch. I didn’t have anyone to go home to or share the holiday with.

My mood had soured and Blaise noticed, immediately sweeping me into a small restaurant, where he ordered an expensive bottle of wine and a meal for us to share. He wasn’t trying to make me eat ungodly portions of rich food, thank Merlin for small favors.

When the time neared half past nine, I told Blaise I was tired and he escorted me back to our hotel. I changed into the least sexy pyjamas ever and Blaise stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. Neither of us looked at the other in a sexual manner. After he gestured to the bed, I climbed in on the right side. Spooning around me, he wrapped me in his arms and I relished the contact. Out of all the things I’d been missing since Draco’s Obliviation, simple, everyday human touch was the worst. I went days without touching another person. It was incredibly lonely.

“You’re not alone, Hermione. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” he whispered against my hair. 

“I know, Blaise. Thank you for this. I know you probably had other things you could’ve done.”

“Not really, Tesoro. My mother is off getting hitched again, and I don’t have a girlfriend, either. We can keep each other company whenever you want.”

With that, I drifted off to sleep quicker than I had in the past two months, feeling safe and warm in Blaise’s arms.

* * *

When Blaise dropped me off at home on Christmas Day, I was devastated. I had hours to kill before heading to Grimmauld Place, and there was nothing waiting at home for me — no presents, no people, no pets. Absolutely nothing. Last year, when I’d gotten back from France, there were little gifts all over the house for me to discover. Draco felt guilty about leaving me alone on Christmas, so he tried to make up for it by overdoing the presents.

Knowing it was likely a huge mistake, I made my way to the locked trunk containing his memories and the notes and trinkets I’d put away for safekeeping. I stared at it for a moment, understanding that my mental state was fragile, that I likely wouldn’t be able to handle reading the notes or replaying the memories.

But I couldn’t help myself. I unlocked it, ignoring my reservations and the little voice inside my head screaming that I was making a mistake. When I opened the lid, the silver shimmer of the memories completely transfixed me — I couldn’t look away. My Draco was in there, in all of those memories. I could see him again. I could see us together again. After a moment, my hand moved towards the letters bound with a red ribbon, removing them from the trunk and untying the knot to free them. Leafing through the sheets of parchment, I finally came across the one I was looking for.

_ Happy Christmas, my love. _

_ You know I’d do anything, give anything, to be spending today with you instead of sitting in the Manor with my parents and Astoria. It breaks my heart to think of you in our little house alone until you depart for Potter’s house. So, after you fell asleep last night, I popped home (and yes, our little house is my home) and hid a few things for you. Your task is to find them — without magic!  _

_ There are nine gifts in all, one for each month since the first time we were together. I know you said you didn’t want me to overdo it, but I am who I am, Granger, and I won’t apologise for that. _

_ There is another note with each gift. Good luck, and I hope you know that I am missing you like crazy. I’ll be counting the minutes until I’m back here with you. _

_ I love you so much. More than anything. I always will. _

_ DM _

His note prompted me to start reliving the mad search for his gifts, the little trinkets and over the top ones he’d hidden everywhere. A new lingerie set in the rumpled sheets, a book nestled on one of my bookshelves, glass otter and dragon figurines representing our Patronuses on my mantle.

A diamond pendant so large that I’d never been able to wear it out while in England accompanied a new red dress in my wardrobe, both items magically secured to a hanger.

_ We’re going to Paris for Valentine’s Day. This is coming with you, and I can’t wait to see you wearing it… and then wearing nothing at all but the necklace. _

In the bathroom, I’d found an unopened bottle of the perfume he loved so much, a note magically inserted behind the cellophane wrapping on the box.

_ I will forever associate this scent with you. Whenever you pass me in the office, I can smell it and it makes me long to nuzzle my face against your neck, to run my tongue along your throat and taste you. _

A flash of heat ran through me, thinking about his words, about how many times he’d actually done those things to me in the office. Even though I was filled with sadness, his words made me remember — remember the feel of his mouth on my neck, his hands roaming my body, the words he would whisper in my ear — and I craved him, his touch, like a drug.

I had known this was a mistake, but I hadn’t been expecting the fire racing through my veins, the raw  _ want _ that filled me. It had been absent for almost three months, and the intensity with which it hit me was shocking. I needed to cool it, to tamp it down. 

I needed to be numb again.

I immediately opened a bottle of firewhisky, taking a shot as quickly as I could. It burned its way down my throat, and I welcomed the pain and warmth. One shot became two, and two shots became four, four became eight in the blink of an eye, and then I was drunk. Really drunk, and the want was still there, my mind swimming with both memories and fantasies starring Draco. His face, his body, his voice… they were all there, playing behind my eyelids and torturing me.

I sat on the floor in front of my fireplace and conjured my favourite blue flames, forcing myself to open my eyes and watch them dance and cast light as I started to cry for what I’d lost, for everything I’d given up in the past eight years. My parents, the Weasleys, Draco… my dreams of working in a capacity that would make a difference for magical creatures. I felt so defeated, like there was nothing left for me in Britain whatsoever.

Like there was nothing worth suffering through this existence for.

My last thought before I blacked out was:  _ I wonder if Harry would come for me if I didn’t turn up at Grimmauld Place. _

* * *

The answer to that question was a resounding _yes_. Harry did show up, and he found me on the floor, completely blacked out and crying my eyeballs out. I had vomited at some point, though it was mainly just liquid. He turned around and used the Floo to call Pansy. 

“She drank herself half to death, Pansy! I’m taking her to St. Mungo’s,” he shouted.

“Harry, no,” I groaned. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go to Mungo’s.”

“You’re not fine, Hermione! You haven’t been fine in nearly three bloody months! You weigh at least a stone less than you did in October, you have almost no fingernails, and you’re passed out in your own sick. What are you doing to yourself?!”

I didn’t answer. Everything he had said was true; there wasn’t a sense in disputing it. I stared at him, watching his pained expression as he muttered a half-hearted  _ Stupefy _ . Everything went blissfully black again.

When I woke up, I was magically confined to a room in St. Mungo’s. There was something akin to a magical whiteboard across from my bed, and I saw that I was in room 343 of the Mental Health ward of the hospital. My Healer was Penelope Clearwater. 

I internally berated both myself and Harry. I didn’t need to be here. I was just going through a rough time. I didn’t need professional help. I would pull myself out of it soon. I could start eating and sleeping properly whenever I wanted to. I wasn’t depressed or suicidal. I just missed Draco.

There must have been a monitoring charm on me because, a few minutes after I had woken, Penelope Clearwater entered the room. She looked at me with sympathy, and I wanted to sneer at her. However, I kept my cool. She was a Ravenclaw. Logical. I could be logical. She’d see I was fine and she’d let me go home. I could still make it to Christmas at Harry’s house for James.

“Hello, Ms. Granger. I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Penelope Clearwater,” she greeted warmly.

_ We were Petrified by a fucking basilisk together. Of course I remember you, you twit. How could I ever forget you? _

“I do remember you. It’s nice to see you again. What shall I call you?”

“Healer Clearwater is fine,” she replied. “Harry Potter brought you in, Stunned and unresponsive, saying he’d found you drunk and passed out. He’s worried for your safety.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course he is. I’ve been through a lot lately, and I’ll admit I’m not quite myself at the moment, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with me. Anyone in my situation would be struggling a bit.”

“And what situation are you in? I obviously don’t know,” she asked, her tone gentle.

I groaned. “Do we have to do this right now? I could use something for my head, and I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll certainly give you something for your head, but we do need to talk. You’re not going to be leaving the hospital until I clear you,” Penelope stated.

Rolling over, I said, “I’m off from work all week anyway. Let me get some rest and maybe I’ll feel better in the morning.”

I heard her exit the room, and a few minutes later, a pain relief potion appeared on the small side table. Eagerly swallowing it, I chased the taste away with some water and curled up on the hospital bed. I tried to fall asleep, but I just couldn’t. My mind was racing and, an hour later, Healer Clearwater came back in.

“You’re not sleeping. I thought you were exhausted?”

I sat up in bed and folded my arms across my chest. “I am exhausted, but I can’t sleep. This is how I’ve been since the beginning of October. Maybe even a bit longer than that.”

“And you’re not eating well, either. My diagnostic showed malnutrition, and your chart shows that you’ve lost nearly a stone. You were already a slender woman. What’s going on, Hermione?” Penelope asked, likely hoping that I’d cave and tell her something. Anything.

“I went through a bad break up. I’m just stressed and upset. It’s only been a couple of months,” I reasoned. “I’m sure I’ll be good as new in a few months.”

She eyed me skeptically, examining my facial expressions. “And how often are you drinking to excess?”

“This has been the only time!” I snarled at her, losing my cool for a moment.

She shook her head. “You’re lying, Ms. Granger. I know you’re lying. I bet there have been times where you’ve had wine or firewhisky to help you fall asleep. Am I right?”

_ Was she using Legilimency on me? _

“Yes, but only when I reach a point of unbearable exhaustion,” I admitted. “I really can’t sleep more than a few hours a night right now.”

“That’s not normal break up stress nearly three months later.”

_ How many women do you know that have erased themselves from their boyfriend’s memories? _

“Well, I’ve always been extraordinary,” I quipped. 

With a sigh, she wrote something on my chart. A moment later, a vial of Dreamless Sleep appeared on my side table where the pain relief had been. “Get some rest and we’ll try to talk again when you’re feeling more cooperative. Just keep in mind that you won’t be going anywhere until I sign off on it and say it’s okay.”

“Can’t bloody wait,” I muttered before swallowing the potion and drifting off to sleep.

* * *

I was not permitted to leave the hospital right away. I was surly and uncooperative. I wouldn’t eat, and I only slept when they gave me Dreamless Sleep. I wouldn’t talk to the Healers about my feelings or tell them what had put me in such a state. They tried flattery, telling me that I was bright and _ of course  _ they understood that I had finally cracked under the pressure, under everyone’s high expectations of me. They tried playing on my sympathy, telling me that Harry and Ron were sitting in the waiting room in shifts, wanting to be there for me when I was released.

They tried everything and, despite how much I wanted to go home, I didn’t want to spill my guts to them. I couldn’t. How was I supposed to convey what was going on in my head without telling the truth?

On the fifth day, Blaise showed up and demanded to see me. Since nothing else had worked, they let him into my room.

“Tesoro, are you fucking kidding me?” he hissed. “I drop you off at home, you get completely pissed, and now you won’t talk to anyone? Won’t tell them anything to get out of here?”

“What do you want me to say, Blaise?! I can’t tell them the truth! I can’t tell them why I’m broken up over this whole situation!”

He sighed and flopped down into the chair next to me. “I know you can’t tell them everything. But you could tell them some things. Maybe it will help. You’re not talking to anyone about any of this, Hermione, and I’m sure it’s eating you up inside.”

It  _ was _ eating me up inside. It was twisting my stomach into knots and making me sick. All things Draco played on a loop in my mind when I wasn’t working, and he occasionally interrupted my thoughts there, as well. How many times had he sat in the chair across from me, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, just smirking at me while I wrote out case notes? How many times had he convinced me to throw up a Silencing Charm and bend over my desk? Why hadn’t I worked harder to keep our relationship strictly professional?

“I don’t know how to bloody talk about it!” I admitted. “What will they think of me, Blaise? What will my Healer, a bloody brilliant Ravenclaw, think about me sleeping with a married man for over a year?!”

“You may be a war heroine, Hermione, but you’re still human. You’re not a goddess. You’re not expected to be perfect all the time,” he answered, looking me straight in the eyes. “You are harder on yourself than anyone else is, Tesoro. Potter and Weasley are probably next in line for your harshest critics.”

I laughed, knowing he was right. “And where does Rita Skeeter fall? Or maybe Lucius Malfoy?”

“Numbers four and five, respectively,” he replied with a smirk, continuing the joke. “Talk to me now and we can work out what to tell the Healers. Something will be better than nothing.”

Shakily, I accepted his suggestion and we spent the next hour going over what I’d tell Healer Clearwater. Blaise promised he’d come back the following night after work to help me calm down after the conversation, and he also said he’d tell Harry and Ron to give me a little bit of space while I was in the hospital. He knew I was uncomfortable with them spending all of their time waiting for me. They both had children and wives, and I was sure Pansy and Luna were annoyed with them for sitting in a waiting room while I simply ignored them.

Blaise kissed my forehead and departed, telling me that I would be okay and he would be with me through it all. Through all the months, he hadn’t judged me or made me feel worse, so I believed him wholeheartedly. He had been my rock, my safe place when everything was too much to bear. 

Blaise Zabini had saved me, time and time again, and I often wondered why he bothered to. I did nothing but complicate his simple, happy life.

I didn’t deserve him.

* * *

When Healer Clearwater entered my room the next day, she immediately asked me about Blaise and why I was willing to talk to him.

“Because Blaise already knows my story. He knows why I’m upset and how I ended up here. He was the last one to see me on Christmas,” I responded.

She nodded and made a note on her clipboard. “And he’s what to you? A friend?”

“Definitely. He’s a close friend. We’ve been spending time together for almost two years now. We work together, and we share some of the same interests,” I explained.

“Good. He told me that you were ready to talk today. Are you still feeling ready to explain how you’re feeling? How you ended up here?” she questioned.

“Yes. I’ll tell you most of the story, the parts of it that won’t give anything away, at least,” I replied.

And then I gave her the long version of half-truths. I’d had a one-night stand with someone who happened to be getting married. When said person got back from their honeymoon and started seeing me around, he’d pursued me relentlessly. I’d managed to keep my distance for a month before I gave in. Once I gave in, I felt guilty, but I continued the affair. We fell in love. He took me on trips and showered me with gifts and we acted like his wife just didn’t exist. He lived in my house about half the time. We read the same books and enjoyed a lot of the same things. We both worked at the Ministry. His parents would never approve of me. His wife had gotten pregnant on their first anniversary, and I’d had to end things.

“Well, that’s certainly a lot, and not quite what I was expecting,” Healer Clearwater said after listening to my story without interrupting. 

I glared at her. “Sorry that I didn’t quite live up to your expectations.”

“Oh, you misunderstand me! I was assuming it was a more mundane relationship, not something secret and somewhat scandalous. Are you having trouble coming to terms with your actions?”

“No. I felt guilty from time to time while the relationship was going on, but I don’t feel that way now. I feel slightly guilty that I ended it in such a cowardly way. I just stopped answering him and I’m doing all I can to avoid him. His focus needs to be on his family, so we never talked about it properly,” I admitted, again using a half-truth.

She bit her lip, seemingly deep in thought. “Do you think that’s part of your problem? You didn’t get proper closure with him?”

I shrugged. Without telling her the whole story, I couldn’t tell her that there was no way for me to get closure.

“Are you afraid he’ll find his way back into your life?” 

“Not at all. I never had a talk with him, but I do know he’s gotten the message now. I haven’t heard from him since October,” I answered.

“I want you to try something, Hermione. I think you should start a journal and address your entries to him, to your ex-boyfriend. Just from this conversation alone, I can tell you have a lot to say to him and you’re not willing to do it in person. You’ve always been a fan of the written word, and sometimes, it’s just easier to write it all out rather than talk about it,” Healer Clearwater suggested.

_ A journal? A fucking journal? This was the kind of advice she had for me after I had spilled my guts for an hour? _

I held back my vitriol and played along. “Sure. I can do that. Do you have a notebook and a quill?”

“I’ll have one sent to you. There is one other thing we really need to discuss,” she stated.

I gestured for her to continue.

“You need to start keeping track of what you’re eating, as well. You’re far too thin and need to make sure you’re eating enough everyday. I don’t want you to continue losing weight. It’s dangerous,” she lectured.

“I… I’ll try,” I whispered. “I’m not consciously skipping meals. My stomach is constantly in knots. I want to eat, but sometimes I just can’t.”

Penelope idly tapped her quill on her clipboard. “If you want to get out of here, Hermione, you need to prove that you can take care of yourself. You need to eat and try to work through your problems. I’d also like to see you sleep through a night before you’re released.”

“What? I just bloody talked to you like you wanted me to! I still can’t leave?” I snapped, taken aback that I was still being held hostage.

“Not yet, no. We look at situations like yours very carefully, Hermione. You’ve been through a lot in the past seven years. I read up on you, you know. I know that you Obliviated your parents, fell into a relationship with Ron Weasley, lost that relationship, buried yourself in your work, and went out a lot. Now, you’re never seen out, and I’m guessing that was because of this mysterious married man, but you’re endangering yourself. You live alone. I don’t want to let you go home and have something bad happen to you.”

“How dare you act like you know me! Yes, I Obliviated my parents and things didn’t work out with Ron. That doesn’t mean that I have no one in my life. You’ve seen Harry and Ron and Blaise all come here to check on me. Do you think that will stop once I go home?” I argued.

“I’m sure it won’t, unless you cut them out like you did with your boyfriend. You don’t seem well, Hermione, and it scares me that you’re not willing to ask for help in these situations,” she answered. “Give me another week. Get yourself on a proper eating and sleeping schedule here. Start journaling and accepting visits from your friends, and we’ll talk again.” 

Knowing I didn’t really have a choice in the matter, I agreed. What was another week? I knew I had the vacation time, and Harry would make sure our boss approved it. After all, I was hospitalized.

* * *

I sat at the small desk in my hospital room, staring at the blank page in front of me. It was mocking me. I had always been able to find the right words, but nothing was coming to mind today.

_ If Draco were here now, right this very second, what would you want to say to him? _

I picked up the quill and dipped it in the violet ink they had given me. I held it over the page for a moment, and then I began writing.

_ DM- _

_ I really don’t know what to say to you. It’s been just about three months since I Obliviated you, and I’m a wreck. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I’ve landed myself in St. Mungo’s. I’ve lost so much weight and your eyes haunt my dreams. I stared into them for so long while I was removing your memories… and I can’t stop seeing them whenever I close my eyes. It’s like they’re burned into the back of my eyelids. Your father owled me to say that you’re doing well, that I’d managed to do what I’d set out to do. You don’t remember me and you love Astoria. _

_ As much as it hurt to read those words, I was happy that I hadn’t really harmed you. As you know, Obliviation is dangerous. I’m sure the memories I created for you aren’t perfect, but I hope that you believe them and that Astoria is making you as happy as I once did. If she is, all of my hard work was completely worth it. I want you to be happy in your new life with Astoria and the baby. _

_ I could live with us sneaking around when it was just Astoria we were hurting. I could rationalize that in my head. But your child is innocent, Draco, and he or she deserves to have a complete family. The baby deserves a chance at the happy childhood that we missed out on, and I’m sure you and Astoria will provide him or her with the best possible life. I couldn’t stand in the way of that.  _

_ If you knew, I hope you would understand why I did what I did, and also why I didn’t talk to you about it first. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and suggest ending our relationship by making it seem like it had never happened. I couldn’t suggest altering your memories so that you believed your feelings for me were actually for Astoria. I know you would’ve fought me every step of the way, even if you wanted to do right by your child and Astoria. We were both incredibly selfish when it came to each other, and I don’t think that is something that ever would’ve changed. _

_ I am so fucking sorry. I miss you so much. Every single day, I wake up missing you and I fall asleep missing you. I know I made a mistake, but there is no way for me to take it back now. Just know that it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. What’s done is done, and I have to live with it. _

_ HG xx _

  
  


When I finished the entry, I looked it over. I wasn’t sure if writing the words out made me feel any better, but I would play along with Penelope’s game. I would try whatever she wanted me to as long as it meant I would get out of here soon. I decided, in that moment, I would choke down whatever food was given to me and I’d write a thousand letters to Draco, explaining and apologizing, if it meant I could get back to my normal life.

But, at this point in time, what was normal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning/afternoon/evening everyone!
> 
> I'm going to jump in and respond to the comments on Chapter 3 right now. It was a weird week for me to say the least. Just know that I loved reading every single one of them and will continue to do so!
> 
> As always, please reach out with any questions. There are a few I won't answer, though. *wink*
> 
> Thank you to my team... I'd be lost without you.


	5. January 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Saturday! We have two narrators in this chapter, so I made sure to mark it clearly for you. This will not happen often. In fact, it doesn't happen again in any other chapter I've written so far...

**Draco - January 2006**

* * *

I was pacing the hallways of St. Mungo's, anxiously waiting for Astoria to deliver our baby. She had adamantly refused to let me into her delivery room, so I was relegated to the waiting room. Much to my surprise, Harry Potter was there as well. When he saw me, his eyes widened for just a moment before he stood and walked over to greet me.

"Malfoy. How are you doing? Your father told me you had a pretty nasty broom accident."

"I did. I'm still not clear on exactly what happened, but I'm recovering." The silence stretched between us for a few moments. "Is Pansy having baby number two right now?" I asked, making polite conversation.

"She is," he confirmed. "Astoria is also in labor?"

I nodded, unsure of what else to say.

"She won't let you in the room with her either?" Potter asked.

With a laugh, I replied, "No. It's a pureblood thing. The women like to suffer through it alone. Once the baby is clean and swaddled, they'll invite us in. My mother explained it to me."

"Yeah, I've been through it once already with James."

Right. Potter had already been through this torture. I didn't know if I could stomach it a second time around.

"Where is James? With Granger?"

Potter shook his head. "No, he's with Ron and Luna. He and Stella are becoming friends now that she's a bit older. Hermione is, well, she's not really equipped to deal with children at the moment."

Something he said had my stomach turning over, though I wasn't sure what had triggered it.

"Right. I'm assuming she's still on her own then?" I enquired, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"She is. She's been going through a difficult time, but she's starting to get better," Potter offered. "I'm sure she'll meet someone and settle down soon. She just spends a lot of time working so she doesn't date much."

The thought of Granger dating definitely made my insides squirm. It seemed I had never gotten over the silly infatuation I'd had with the Muggle-born witch during school. Idly, I wondered how I'd managed to conceal it from everyone in the office. I felt sure I'd made an ass of myself at one point or another.

"I believe that. She's always been a hard worker. I bet she never would've left the Hogwarts library if you and Weasley hadn't forced her to," I quipped, causing him to smirk.

Potter looked at his watch even though there was a clock on the wall in front of us. "I actually have to pop in and visit a friend on another floor. Could you send me a Patronus if the Mediwitch comes out to get me?"

I froze, trying to remember if I'd ever learned how to cast a Patronus. "I… I actually don't remember if I can or not. Do you happen to know? From work?"

"You can," Potter replied. "Give it a try. Focus on a happy memory and cast it."

I did the wand movements and said the incantation, thinking of the moment Astoria had told me she was pregnant. That was the happiest memory I currently had, and a silvery creature burst from the tip of my wand. When I looked at it, I couldn't immediately identify it. It was something unfamiliar, and I saw a look of momentary shock on Potter's face.

"What? What is it?" I asked.

He visibly swallowed. "It's an otter. It's just, well, it's just a little strange. I was expecting… your Patronus used to be something else, that's all."

"What was it before?"

"It was actually a dragon. I don't know what type, so don't ask me, but it was definitely a dragon the last time I saw it," he explained.

I went from a dragon to some little almost rodent-like thing?! That is, Merlin, that's embarrassing.

"Right, well, you can do it," Potter stated. "I won't be long, but send it my way if Pansy needs me."

He seemed bloody fucking uncomfortable, and I really couldn't fathom why. I mean, it was a Patronus, and they were known to shift. They were known to change after major emotional stresses or that kind of nonsense. I guessed it might shift back to the dragon after I had more of my memories back.

If I ever got more of my memories back.

* * *

Potter returned nearly an hour later, but neither Pansy nor Astoria had given birth yet. We sat in the waiting room, not really speaking. I didn't know what to say. I would sound bloody stupid if I couldn't remember something important.

After about an hour of uncomfortable silence, I decided to question him about my work.

"So, Potter, do you think I'll ever be able to come back to work? Or am I too addled?"

He snickered. "It doesn't seem like you're addled, Malfoy. If you wanted to, you'd just have to prove that you have no issues making new memories, and you'd have to pass the re-entrance exams. It's as easy as some studying, dueling practice, and a visit to a healer."

I nodded. "Was I a decent Auror?"

"Yeah, actually, you were really good. I was shocked when you got into the program, but you really proved yourself over time. You helped to bring in a lot of the escaped Death Eaters. You had invaluable information and we caught quite a few people hiding out at pureblood estates with your help," Potter explained. "You were always great at doing some of your own research, too. Hermione didn't really have time to help everyone, so you'd often just work things out on your own."

"You want to know something strange?" I asked. He gestured for me to continue. "I don't really remember working with her at all, even when I try to. I know I did, but it's like our paths never crossed or something. I can't really see her around the office over the past two years at all, but I remember her before then."

"That's because she stays in her office most of the time. I can barely get her to go out to lunch some days," he said with a smile. "Like I said, you did a good portion of your own research. There was really no reason for you to interact with her."

On top of what Potter told me, I supposed I tried to avoid her after I married Astoria. If she was still single, I likely didn't want to get myself into trouble. If she had ever given me an inch, I would've taken a mile.

I didn't continue talking, lost in my own thoughts about the strange things missing from my memories of the past two years, and Potter didn't initiate further conversation. I sat, unable to pace for fear of a dizzy spell, and waited.

Pansy gave birth first — a second baby boy who they named Severus — so I visited her. It seemed like she couldn't meet my eyes and I wondered why. Was it awkward for her ex-boyfriend to be here? Was she uncomfortable with me after the accident? She'd been by the Manor several times to visit and I couldn't remember any hard feelings between us.

"He's adorable, Pans," I complimented. "Who would've thought you and Scarhead would make cute babies?"

Forcing a smile, she laughed. "Well, I'm sure you'll have your perfect pureblood heir with Malfoy hair and eyes soon enough. You and Astoria have similar coloring."

"I know. I'm starting to worry. She's been in there for hours, and I've heard nothing," I replied.

Pansy finally looked straight at me, and I could tell she was emotional. Whether it was the hormones or something to do with me, I had no idea. "The first one always takes some time," she explained. "Her body hasn't done this before. It's not exactly a walk in the park, Draco."

"I know. I just wish I could be in there with her, giving her support, or really just to know she's okay," I replied.

Her eyes softened. "You really love Astoria."

"Of course I do," I answered, wondering how I had treated my wife before the accident. Why would Pansy be surprised that I loved her?

I saw her take a deep breath. "Good. That's good, Draco."

Potter grabbed her hand and squeezed it, shifting her focus to him. "Pansy, tell him what it was like for you the first time around. That'll make him glad that he's not in there right now."

And she proceeded to horrify me with the story of her first birthing experience, giving me a blow by blow of everything that happened, complete with the threats she'd made on Harry's life for getting her pregnant in the first place. I started to wonder if Astoria was feeling the same way or considering having my bollocks removed.

Once I'd calmed down a bit, they both smiled at me. Potter said, "There's nothing like the first time you hold your baby. You'll never feel a love so strong."

Looking down at Pansy holding their son, a soft smile crossed his face. I felt like I was intruding on something very private, intimate, even. Potter looked like he wanted to spend some time alone with Pansy and their son, so I headed back towards the waiting room. I sat on the uncomfortable chair and tried to let my mind race. My thoughts used to run so quickly, jumping from one to another. Since the accident, though, I felt like they crawled along at a snail's pace, like the missing memories had severed connections somewhere, and I just couldn't jump from one thought to the next like I used to.

An hour later, just after midnight, Astoria gave birth to our son. January 13th was now officially my favourite day. When I was allowed into her room, she was already cleaned up and looking perfect again, our son cradled against her chest. I could see wisps of Malfoy blond hair on his tiny head, and I felt a surge of emotion in my chest. I'd never felt this kind of love for another person before.

I moved to Astoria's bedside and kissed her forehead before telling her she looked beautiful. She smiled and seemed to savour my affection. I ran a finger along the baby's cheek, stroking his soft skin, and she carefully transferred him into my arms. I thanked her for giving me this gift — this precious, tiny person who looked almost exactly like I had as an infant — and I sat down beside her, rocking him gently.

I stared at his tiny face, memorizing every detail of it. In that moment, I was so very thankful I had no problem forming or accessing new memories. I wouldn't miss a thing, not a single second, of my son's first days. I would be able to remember every milestone, every tantrum, every smile. I felt tears well in my eyes, and Astoria must have noticed because she said, "Draco, are you okay?"

I nodded. "He's perfect, Stori. Look at him. He's just so perfect."

I looked over at her and she was beaming at me. She looked a little tired, but she seemed happy nonetheless. "He is pretty amazing already," she replied. "I was thinking we could follow the Black tradition and name him after a constellation or a star."

After a moment, I blurted, "Scorpius. His name should be Scorpius."

"Scorpius. I like it. I'll have a dragon and scorpion protecting me."

I didn't answer her, too enamored with the baby in my arms. I knew I should keep talking with her, but I was so overwhelmed by how much I already loved Scorpius; my world had shifted and he was now the center of my universe. I was going to try to be the best father ever, the polar opposite of what Lucius had been to me. When I finally looked over to Astoria again, she had fallen asleep. Scorpius was also dozing, but I felt so awake, so alive, for the first time since the accident.

I carefully set the baby down in the rolling cot and kissed Astoria's forehead. Despite my less than polite behaviour, I really did love her. In fact, I felt like today had made me love her more than I already had. The disjointed feelings in my memories were still unclear but, since the day I had woken up in the Manor, my feelings had been growing. She had been there for me, assisting with my recovery in every way possible, even when she'd been having a difficult pregnancy.

She helped me remember things I'd lost in the past year or so, and she made me feel like I could fall in love with her. And she'd now delivered Scorpius, giving me the most precious gift I'd ever received.

I took off my shoes and carefully climbed into the hospital bed, laying down beside her. She instinctively moved closer to me and I held her tightly. She'd put perfume on again, and I breathed it in before dropping gentle kisses along her neck.

"I love you more than anything, Draco," she murmured sleepily.

I wanted to reply, but the words froze on my tongue for a moment. I knew I should tell her the same, but I just couldn't. I kissed her lips gently and replied, "You too, Astoria."

* * *

Astoria and I woke to the sound of Scorpius crying. There must have been a monitoring charm on the room because the healers and the Mediwitches also made their way in after he woke. I was unceremoniously sent home to shower and change my clothes while the healers looked Astoria and Scorpius over and gave her tips on nursing. My parents rushed to me as soon as I stepped through the Floo.

"Did she have the baby, Draco?!" My mother cried.

Fuck. I'd forgotten to owl them.

I nodded and said, "Yes, after midnight. I didn't want to disturb you. A healthy, baby boy with strong lungs. We've named him Scorpius."

I saw her eyes fill with tears. "Oh, my little dragon is a father! When can I meet my little scorpion?"

I told my parents they could visit later that afternoon and that the Potters had also welcomed a child the night before. My mother gushed about all of the new babies being born to start the year, and I nearly rolled my eyes. My father had barely acknowledged me.

However, when I turned to leave the room, he put his hand on my shoulder. "How did you feel when you saw the baby, Draco?"

"Like everything had changed in an instant," I admitted. "Like I'd do anything to protect him and make him happy."

"And what about Astoria? What did you feel for her?"

"I was grateful that she'd given me this gift, Father. Other than that, I felt love. I have loved her for some time now."

He smiled at me, and it was one of the only genuine smiles I'd ever seen from him. "Good. That's wonderful, son. I'm so glad you have your own little family now. I think it's just what you needed."

His words struck me as odd, but my father had never been one to discuss emotions. I figured he was just absolute shit at it. After an awkward half hug, I retreated to the room Astoria and I had been sharing in the family wing of the Manor. I showered and dressed as quickly as possible, eager to get back to the hospital and spend time with Scorpius.

When I walked back through the door of St. Mungo's, I ran into someone unexpected. Blaise Zabini was heading towards the exit and he stiffened when our eyes met. I wasn't sure why, but he looked stressed.

"Blaise," I greeted. "It's been a while. I thought you would've turned up at the Manor while I was recovering."

"The DMLE has been a little bit crazy. You went out on leave and then Hermione—"

"Hermione? You call Granger by her first name?" I asked.

He looked at me curiously.

"Isn't that strange?" I continued. "I mean, you can't be that familiar with her."

"No offense, Malfoy, but you wouldn't remember if I was close with her or not from what I understand of your injury," Blaise snarled uncharacteristically. "Hermione is a good friend of mine and so is Potter."

"Right," I replied, getting the feeling that something had happened to strain my friendship with Blaise. "Mate, I'm not sure what happened between us, but something obviously did. Whatever it was, I'm sorry for it. I never would've wanted to lose you as a friend."

He shrugged his shoulders casually. "You haven't lost me, Draco. I just… can't tell you anything. Your father told me the healers didn't want anyone telling you about your past. They're worried it'll somehow affect your recovery."

I examined his face and it looked like he was telling the truth. He normally had a twitch near his left eye when he lied, and I saw no sign of it. "Right. Why are you here, Blaise? Visiting Potter and Pansy?"

"Um, no. I was visiting another friend, actually. She's been in here a while and we're getting ready to bring her home," he answered. My head tilted to the side a bit, nonverbally asking who he had been visiting. "Oh, it's no one you know, Draco. She's a Muggle-born and is a bit older than us."

I invited him to come up and meet Scorpius, but he declined. It was clear he was uncomfortable around me, and I was sure it was because of something I'd done before the accident, but I had no way of recalling what it was. I couldn't try to figure out who he was visiting or why that individual was here because I didn't know what floor he'd been on. I tried to shake it off, to forget I had even seen Blaise, but it was difficult. He and I had been best mates since first year and the tension between us had made me feel ill.

And then I remembered that Potter had also gone to visit someone late last night, and I wondered if it was the same person Blaise was visiting. I resolved to ask Potter if I ran into him and continued walking to Astoria's room. When I entered, she was holding the baby and nursing. I almost averted my eyes, feeling like I was walking in on something I shouldn't see. However, she was my wife and this was my son. Surely I didn't have to leave the room or look away. Astoria must have sensed my initial discomfort because she covered the nursing baby with a small blanket. I moved to the chair I had sat in the previous night and took her unoccupied hand.

"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked.

She smiled at me and I noticed her face was completely made up like it was a normal day. "I'm great, Draco. He's everything I've ever wanted."

"You look tired. Once you're done, you should get some rest. I told my parents they can come to meet him this afternoon."

Astoria nodded, lifting the blanket and checking on the baby. I could see his little mouth still working, and I was glad he was already eating. Through my reading, I'd learned that some babies wouldn't eat much for the first few days of their lives. Clearly, Scorp wasn't having that problem.

"I should've asked you before I left this morning — do you need anything from the Manor? I don't know how long they're planning on keeping you here," I said, trying to fill the silence.

She just shook her head, continuing to focus all of her attention on the baby. She pulled him free and started to burp him, and I was mesmerized by how tiny his features were. I couldn't tell if his nose would be pointed like mine or if he'd end up with my long fingers. I still hadn't seen his eyes, so I didn't know if they were grey or blue or green. I didn't think they'd be brown; there were no brown-eyed family members on either side.

Once he had been burped, Astoria held the baby out to me and I happily took him. He seemed content after his feeding, so he mostly just slept in my arms. I relaxed into the chair, enjoying the moment of peace. However, much too soon, the Mediwitches came in and showed me how to change a nappy and swaddle him. When he was tightly wrapped in his blanket, I placed him in the cot so he could rest up for his visitors.

Astoria had fallen asleep, as well. Since I was the only conscious person in the room, I decided to go up to the tea room; I had forgone my caffeine fix that morning and was also feeling pretty tired. Potter was there, using the percolator to make a pot of coffee.

"Blimey, I'd forgotten how exhausting it is to have a newborn, even though I just had one a year or so ago!" he exclaimed. "Do you want some coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee," I responded.

Potter looked at me and shrugged. "You used to. In fact, you drank more of it than most people I know."

Seriously? I had forgotten that I somehow preferred coffee to tea now? I felt myself tense up, finding it difficult to believe that my tastes had changed that much. I gestured for Potter to pour me a cup and brought it to my nose. It smelled strong but also delicious, especially since I hadn't had any since I'd woken up from the coma. I felt my eyes widen and Potter smirked.

"Thank god you drank it black before, Malfoy. Otherwise, this could've gone much differently."

Remembering my conversation with Blaise, I decided to ask the question that had popped into my mind. "Who were you visiting last night, Potter? I realised I never asked."

"Oh, it's no one you know, Malfoy. Just a friend of mine," he answered coolly.

"I ran into Blaise downstairs. He told me he was visiting someone, so I figured it must have been Pansy, but then he told me it was a Muggle-born that I wouldn't know."

Potter sighed. "Yeah, it is. She was hurt by a former Death Eater and she's recovering. We can't reveal her identity to anyone because she's a witness."

This answer frustrated me; Blaise had said she was a friend, not a witness. I felt like something was being kept from me, something I really needed to know. Maybe not needed, but I was certain that I wanted to know. On top of that, I had a feeling they would've told me who it was if not for my injury. Maybe I'd be visiting this witch, too. I felt somehow drawn to the mystery.

"So, how is little Severus? Is he as surly as his namesake?" I ventured, trying to change the subject since Potter would never give out information on a witness.

With a laugh, he nodded in the affirmative. "Did you end up with a boy or a girl?"

"A boy, of course. There are never females born into the Malfoy line."

"But Astoria is from a family that produces predominantly females, so it could've gone either way," he pointed out.

"True," I began. "I named him Scorpius, following the Black family tradition. I'm sure you know about that."

"Yes, seeing as I have a Black family tapestry stuck to a wall in my home that won't ever come off," he answered. "I've learned so many constellation names."

I laughed. I could send my mother over to Potter's place and, with just a few drops of blood, she'd be able to remove the tapestry. However, I found it funny that my name would be stuck on Potter's wall forever. My mother had her copy of the tapestry in her private sitting room. The Malfoy version spanned the wall of my father's study.

"It's horribly ugly. Do purebloods honestly like to look at them?"

"I was forced to memorise both the Black and the Malfoy ones," I replied honestly. "I didn't find it particularly visually appealing, but it's always been the way."

"Will you make Scorpius learn it?" Potter inquired.

I shook my head. "No, that nonsense is over now. I won't be locking him into a marriage contract with a pureblood witch, and I don't care if he knows who his dead great-great-great grandfather on his mother's side is. The man has been dead for a long time now. I'll only want him to know who his living relatives are."

Potter looked at me with an approving smile. "I'm glad to hear it. Don't let Lucius change your mind. No child wants to learn all that rot."

I certainly agreed with him on that point. I had hated sitting in front of it for hours when I was younger, trying to remember names and dates that were completely irrelevant. My father, however, was a traditional pureblood to his very core and wouldn't let me off the hook. He said it was crucial that I understood the years of perfect matches that led to my conception, and that had somehow made me feel like I was a science experiment, designed to be the perfect pureblood heir.

I didn't want Scorpius to feel that way. I wanted him to know that he was here because his parents both wanted him, that he was loved. Our bloodlines may have been vetted before they were deigned an acceptable mixture by my father, but that wasn't why we'd had a child. I had always wanted to be a father — a good father, so unlike my own — and Astoria had always wanted to be a mother. She and I had a good relationship and I was sure that children would only solidify that.

Potter seemed to be studying me in the strange way he always had, and I raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked.

"It's nothing, Malfoy. I honestly can't believe that we'll have sons with the same birthday starting at Hogwarts together in eleven years. Who would've guessed it?" he mused.

"Scorpius was born after midnight, so one day apart technically. Who would've guessed that you would marry Pansy? The only thing more shocking would've been if I'd married Granger," I laughed, and Potter looked like he had swallowed a lemon, clearly as protective of Granger as he'd ever been.

"Yeah, Malfoy, that would've been strange — you and Hermione… I don't think the world will ever be ready for that," he responded, though it sounded forced.

Rolling my eyes and snickering, I said, "Like the Golden Girl would have ever given me a chance."

Potter looked like he was going to say something, but we were interrupted by my father's arrival. "Draco. Auror Potter, how nice to see you. I hear congratulations are in order."

"Mr. Malfoy. Thank you. Pansy and I are obviously over the moon," Potter answered. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a friend who is quite unwell downstairs. I was just on my way to visit her."

I nodded and let him go, but I saw my father examine his face. A barely imperceptible nod, likely a farewell gesture, passed between them, and I escorted my father to Astoria's room.

* * *

**Lucius — January 2006**

* * *

Right before I entered the tea room at St. Mungo's to fetch Draco, I heard the most unwelcome phrase in the world.

"—the only thing more shocking would've been if I'd married Granger," Draco's voice danced out and I froze before crossing the threshold.

Did he remember? Did he know what I had done? She had been confident this would work, and she truly was the brightest witch I'd ever met, despite her heritage.

Harry Potter's head was in my line of sight, and I vaguely recalled Draco saying that Pansy had given birth to their second baby. "Yeah, Malfoy, that would've been strange — you and Hermione… I don't think the world will ever be ready for that," he responded to Draco, and I could hear the reluctance in his voice.

Draco let out a snicker. "Like the Golden Girl would have ever given me a chance."

I heard it, heard his longing and the glib tone, and I knew I had to interject. It was clear that Potter knew something of their former relationship and was holding back. I felt something between relief that he didn't remember and guilt over taking away something that clearly would've — no, had — meant so much to him.

I masked my emotions and entered the tea room, greeting my son and congratulating Harry Potter. The look in Potter's eyes as he met mine was familiar; I'd seen it countless times since the boy was merely twelve years old.

Hatred.

Despite the forgiveness I'd earned from other people, I would never be redeemed in Harry Potter's eyes. That was fine with me; he treated my son and my wife with kindness and respect immediately after the war, which was more than many others had done.

"Mr. Malfoy. Thank you. Pansy and I are obviously over the moon," Potter stated. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a friend who is quite unwell downstairs. I was just on my way to visit her."

Well, those comments were quite obviously pointed.

I followed Draco down to Astoria's hospital room to meet the newest member of my family. I smiled a lot, more than I can remember smiling in quite some time. Maybe since Draco's birth. Narcissa was cooing over Scorpius, and she looked just as beautiful as she had when she'd been holding Draco over twenty-five years ago.

However, in the back of my mind, Harry Potter's comments were haunting me. The Granger girl, if I'd deduced his comments correctly, was here in the hospital. I felt a worry I hadn't expected to feel. If she was actually here, it was likely because she was suffering after her split with Draco. Had the girl, the one who was so brash and brave and strong, tried to take her own life? Had I nearly had her blood on my hands, as well? Did she really feel that deeply for him?

Did Draco still feel for her in some way?

I remembered the sound of the longing in his voice when he tried to joke about her. Narcissa had always teased me when Draco was younger and complained about Hermione Granger, saying that our son had found his one true love. I constantly dismissed her, saying that Draco would never develop feelings for a Mudblood. He certainly feared me enough to stay away from her. Had Narcissa been right? Had Draco actually felt something for her since his Hogwarts days? Had he dreamed of her, longed for her, the way that I longed for Narcissa when we were teenagers?

Had I taken that away from him?

I sat in a chair, observing my family and thinking things through. What would my life have been like if I hadn't gotten to marry Narcissa? If she'd left me after the first war or the second war? No one would've blamed her, myself included, if she had divorced me, especially after I'd endangered her life and Draco's.

As usual, my perceptive wife knew something was wrong and she led me from the room under the guise of picking up ice cream for Draco and Astoria. Once we were out of the hospital, she Apparated us back to the Manor and looked at me sternly.

"What's going on, Lucius? It's obvious you're not really present with us."

With a sigh, I began telling her about what I'd overheard in the tea room. "Draco still feels something for the Granger girl. It's not like it was, but he longs for her. She warned me he'd had feelings for her before they started their affair, but I didn't believe it. I thought it was all about the sex."

Narcissa dipped her chin and shook her head. "What did you overhear, Lucius?"

"Draco commented on how it was strange that Potter had married Pansy, and that the only thing stranger would've been if he'd married Hermione Granger, given their history," I explained. "Potter said that the world would never be ready for Draco and Hermione as a couple, and Draco made a remark about how she never would've given him a chance."

Narcissa met my eyes, and I continued. "I could hear it, Narcissa. He wanted her to give him a chance. This relationship — however distasteful — it was Draco finally going after something he wanted instead of trying to make us happy."

I saw the sadness I felt enter her eyes, as well.

"Oh, Lucius, what have you done? Why didn't you come to me before you approached her?" Narcissa's voice trembled. "Our son loved that girl, and she obviously loved him, as well."

I felt myself filling with guilt, and Narcissa continued, "I love you, Lucius, but I will never understand why you don't trust my intuitions when it comes to our son. I told you he loved her when he was fourteen years old, and again when she was brought here during the war, and again after you brought her here to Obliviate him. He's always made sure he's in her proximity."

I let out the breath I'd been holding in. "What am I supposed to do now, Cissa?"

She looked at me with a sad smile on her face. "The same thing as you've always done, Lucius. Learn to live with your mistakes. There is no going back now."

She'd told me this after both wars, and I'd done a decent job of it. But this — this mistake, one that had seemed so right for Draco at the time — was twisting something inside of me. I didn't fully understand why but, deep down, I knew it would come back to haunt me someday, and it would likely be the thing that fully destroyed my relationship with my son.

Narcissa read the worry written over my face, and she said, "Lucius, stop. If he somehow manages to find out about it, we'll deal with it. I'm sure what he's feeling now is just the remnants of his attraction to her from school or right after the war."

"And what if she does manage to kill herself?" I whispered. "How do I explain that to Draco if he ever finds out?"

She shook her head. "I'm really not sure, Lucius. Let's pray to Merlin that doesn't happen. Potter and Weasley will likely watch her like hawks now that she's ended up in the hospital. I'm sure she'll start to recover now."

I could only hope.


	6. Hermione - February 2006

It had been nearly a month since I'd left the hospital. I'd stayed until mid-January, eventually agreeing that I had not been coping with Draco's disappearance from my life well at all. Penelope had helped me set small goals for myself. I'd put nearly half a stone of weight back on and allowed both Harry and Ron to visit me. I had started to let the people I'd pushed away over the past two years back into my life, and Penelope said that was great progress.

Once I'd started thinking of her as Penelope rather than Healer Clearwater, my defensiveness had lessened. If I was just talking to Penelope, a girl I knew from Hogwarts, she somehow seemed less threatening. She didn't think I was crazy and understood that I'd had no closure with Draco, even if she didn't know the whole story. The journaling, surprisingly, had been helping me with that. Writing to Draco, saying all the things I hadn't said in person, had been absolutely wonderful.

Both Harry and Blaise had visited me while Astoria was in the hospital giving birth. They'd both seen Draco and said he looked well. When I asked if he looked happy, they had both tried to evade the question, so I knew he had. They were trying to spare my feelings and I couldn't blame them. I'd put them both through the ringer at Christmas.

But I was actually relieved that he was happy. It would've been much harder to live with what I'd done if he was miserable.

I'd immediately returned to work, knowing the department had been struggling without me there to help. Harry hadn't returned to work yet since he was taking an extended paternity leave to help Pansy with James and Sev. I'd been spending a lot of time with them since I'd left the hospital. James was starting to be more fun to interact with and I was much happier when I wasn't locking myself away in my house. Pansy was still quite cold with me, upset with me for what I'd done to Draco and for the stress I'd caused Harry while I was in the hospital and refusing to see him, but she was slowly coming around again.

It was a Sunday morning and the snow was falling hard. I needed to venture out for some food. I couldn't Apparate into the small Muggle town without notice, so I headed to Diagon Alley, focusing on The Leaky Cauldron and Apparating away.

When I arrived, I was surprised to see it hadn't started snowing there yet. I quickly traversed the street, feeling relieved there weren't many people out and about. I was bundled up — my hair covered by my knit hat and the lower half of my face obscured by my scarf — so I hoped I wouldn't be stopped by anyone.

I explored the small market, picking out a few things to get me through the snowstorm. After paying for my purchases, I went back out into the main thoroughfare. I stood still, just for one moment, deciding that I needed to stop by Flourish and Blotts after all. I wanted to grab a new journal since the one Penelope had given me was nearly full already and I had been finding writing therapeutic. As soon as I entered the store, I knew I had made a mistake. There was a flash of platinum hair and I cursed under my breath. The hair had been long, so I knew it wasn't Draco.

Narcissa or Lucius. Lovely. Just what I needed today.

I grabbed a purple journal and quickly walked to the checkout queue, hoping to avoid an awkward run-in. However, fate was still determined to make me its bitch and I heard Lucius Malfoy say, "Ms. Granger, could I have a moment of your time?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a moment before I turned around to face him. Finally, I drew on the last vestiges of my courage and replied, "I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm in a bit of a rush today, so you'll understand if I don't want to waste my limited time on you."

Picking up my bag and heading for the door, I froze when he lightly grabbed my arm. "Please. One moment."

His touch shocked me, especially since it was gentle and his voice was soft. The shop clerk looked at us warily, and I shook my head, signaling that I didn't need him to intervene.

"One moment. That's it, Lucius," I hissed.

He walked me back into the maze of bookshelves, finding a deserted aisle to talk in. He silenced the area and I cast a _Muffliato_.

"I... I don't know how to say this," he stammered slightly, which was definitely not a normal Malfoy response.

I folded my arms over my chest and waited.

"I wanted to thank you. You made sure my grandson got the family he deserves, and you sacrificed your own happiness to do that."

As usual, his insensitivity and selfishness knew no bounds and I was flabbergasted. It wasn't like I had done it for noble reasons. "I didn't really have a choice! You threatened my parents. You know, the defenseless Muggles who don't even know they have a daughter or that magic exists!"

"My actions were perhaps misguided—"

"Misguided?" I hissed. "You somehow found them and were going to _kill_ them! If you had actually gone through with it, would you consider your actions simply misguided?"

He brushed me off. "That's irrelevant since I didn't do it. Surely you can understand that I wanted to keep my family together."

My rage boiled over. "It must be nice to have that option," I began. "To use threats and powerplays and get everything you want."

"I may have pulled some strings, but you also felt guilty, Ms. Granger. I could tell. You wanted what was best for both Draco and Scorpius, and I can't thank you enough for that." He paused for a moment, and quietly added, "I heard you were hospitalised for quite some time. Are you feeling any better now?"

"How dare you! How dare you act like you care about my well-being! You don't care about me, Lucius! You barely care about Draco! You knew he didn't love Astoria and yet you made him marry her! All you were concerned with was preserving your precious pure bloodline. If you hadn't done that, maybe we could've been happy together. Maybe he'd still have his memories!"

I knew half of what I'd said was over the top; he likely hadn't been thinking about the emotional part of the marriage and, even if he had been, Draco had free will. He didn't have to get married if he didn't want to.

Lucius examined my face and he could clearly see that my emotions were still volatile. I turned and started heading for the door.

I heard him inhale a deep breath. "I thought Draco was just punishing himself for what happened during the war and that Astoria would help him move past it. And from what I understand, this... entanglement... didn't begin until after the wedding. Am I mistaken?" he said, halting me once more.

How could I tell Lucius Malfoy I'd been drunk and shagged the living daylights out of his son the night _before_ the wedding? Should I tell him?

"You're not exactly wrong, but you're not exactly right, either," I confessed. "But none of that matters now. He's happy with Astoria, and you can all move on with your lives. I don't know why you bothered to stop me."

With eyes full of concern, he nodded at me. It was bizarre to see something resembling genuine remorse coming from a man who had likely always hated Muggle-borns and had threatened my parents mere months ago. I knew he had apologised for his actions as a Death Eater after the war, but when he had approached me about the affair, he had been just as terrifying as he was when I was a teenager.

Lucius' lips moved, like he was going to begin speaking again, and then he sealed them, likely thinking better of it. We had already caused a minor scene at the checkout, and I was sure he didn't want anyone in the bookstore to think anything untoward was going on between us. Knowing I needed to get away, I quickly thought of a way to end the conversation.

"Maybe," I began, "you should talk to your son about the war and about everything else your family went through before you make any more decisions for him. I helped him work through a lot of his issues, but he doesn't remember that now. He's likely feeling guilty and a bit like he doesn't deserve to move on with his life."

Lucius looked at me strangely again, but he still didn't speak. I nodded and left the store, praying I would never be subjected to a conversation like that ever again.

* * *

As soon as I got home, my first instinct was to head for the locked trunk again. It was nearly Valentine's Day, and I wanted nothing more than to relive the memories we'd made in Paris the previous year. I knew I had a choice — I could dive into the past once more, or I could write in the journal and try to move forward. Nervously, I chewed on my bottom lip, debating the merits of crawling into bed all day and walking through a daydream of Paris, pretending that Draco was still at my side. It may make me happy for a small amount of time, but I knew the crash would be devastating, like it had been at Christmas.

Thinking of Harry, Ron, Blaise, and James, I decided to be responsible. I summoned my in-use journal and sat down at my dining table, cracking the spine and picking up a pen. I would write to him and get this out of my system rather than letting myself drown.

_Dear Draco,_

_I saw your father today. I think he's a bit more complex than we had originally believed he was. It seemed like he was actually concerned about me. I don't know why that matters, but I feel like it's significant in some way. Maybe he really is sorry for his actions, both before and after the war._

_I know you told me you never wanted to discuss the war with him, but I asked him to talk to you today. I'm not sure how the removal of the memories would affect your guilt from the war. I don't want you to hurt forever, and I know that you won't talk to Astoria about all of those things — she just doesn't understand it like we do since she was younger and more sheltered than we were. I hope that you'll talk to him; I think you've always needed some type of closure or reassurance from him, even if you were too stubborn to admit it._

_I hope that Scorpius is thriving and that you and Astoria are the kind of new parents who are sickeningly happy. That's all I wanted for you from the start of this mess._ _Trust me, if not for that innocent child, I would've continued to be selfish, stealing time with you whenever possible. I just couldn't take you away from him, too. He needs a father in his life full time._

_It's been four months now, and I'm still missing you every day. I think my brain — my overthinking, infuriating brain as you used to call it — is making me pine enough for both of us. It knows you can't miss me properly, so it's making me pick up the slack. I don't know if it will ever stop._

_I still love you._

_Hermione_

* * *

When I woke the next morning, the world was sparkling white with snow. It was nearly blinding, and I wanted to curl up on my couch with a book, the fire crackling in the grate across from me. Other than the times I had locked myself in the office and been fully submerged in my work, I felt more like myself than I had in quite some time. It was as if my encounter with Lucius Malfoy and my subsequent journal letter to Draco had somehow cleansed me. I knew it was likely temporary, but I soaked up the little bit of contentment I had found.

Heading to the kitchen, I made a light breakfast of toast and tea, deciding that my plans for the day didn't require any coffee. If I dozed off while reading, I'd be perfectly fine with that. My sleep was still somewhat disordered, though it wasn't as bad as it had been at Christmas. The food didn't make my stomach turn, so I ate happily. Knowing this state likely wouldn't last long, I took full advantage of it, filling myself with the necessary calories and relaxing completely.

I spent hours curled up on my couch reading through a new novel, _The Time-Turner Travesty_ , by one of my favorite wizarding authors. It was filled with angst and romance and suspense, so it kept my mind and my heart racing. I felt like the teenaged version of myself, losing myself to the words and the ambient noise around me. Moping around for months had changed who I was, and days like this felt strange now. They weren't unwelcome by any means, but they were certainly not the norm.

Late in the afternoon, my Floo activated and a letter landed on my hearth.

_Strange_. _Who wouldn't just use an owl?_

I nearly gasped when I saw the Malfoy crest on the back of the thick, parchment envelope. I half expected it to be from Draco. Maybe his father had been racked with guilt after our encounter in Flourish and Blotts and told him everything. I didn't know if that would make me happy or infuriate me; I'd been through so much and worked so hard on making sure Draco's memories were removed properly. Maybe something had happened to Draco. Or Astoria. Or, Merlin forbid, Scorpius. I prayed that wasn't the case.

Shaking my head, I came back to reality. Lucius wouldn't suddenly have a change of heart after one silly conversation; he wasn't the type of man to move backwards after a decision had been made, and he likely knew how dangerous it would be to give Draco his old memories back. And the likelihood of something tragic befalling any of the Malfoys within the walls of the Manor was highly unlikely. Bracing myself for whatever Lucius had to say, I opened the envelope.

I was shocked to find a note from Narcissa, along with a picture of Draco holding Scorpius, looking like the happiest man in the world.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Lucius told me about your encounter in Diagon Alley. I'm sorry I've not said any of this before now. I didn't know Lucius was forcing you to modify Draco's memory until after you'd already started, and it was too late for me to stop it. This is not the post-war life I wanted for my son. His childhood and teenage years were not happy, so all I've ever wanted is for him to find the happiness he was denied in his formative years._

_I think whatever you said to Lucius yesterday has really affected him, not that I'm shocked by this. You were always known as a bright witch, and your Gryffindor nature would allow you to speak to him in a way that most still wouldn't dare. He's trying to figure out a way to talk to Draco about the war — something he wouldn't have done without prompting from an outside source in a million years. I know the rest of the world sees Lucius as a Death Eater, and that is his own fault, but he's always just been my beloved husband. Though our marriage was arranged, I fell in love with him before we even made it to the altar, and I know he reciprocated my feelings._

_I know what it is to be loved by a man who is possessive and passionate, a man who wants you all to himself, regardless of circumstances or roadblocks. Knowing who you are, I'm sure you didn't surrender to Draco's advances easily. In fact, I'm sure you fought him at every turn initially. I know my son is very like his father in this way and was probably persistent to the point of being a pest until you caved to him._

_I knew he cared for you when he was younger, and I suspected he hadn't gotten seriously involved with anyone because he worked with you and saw you every day. I tried to tell him he didn't need to stick with the arranged marriage, that he'd find someone who made him as happy as Lucius made me. But, as usual, he didn't listen to me._ _As I'm sure you're aware, Draco has always felt like he didn't deserve happiness after the war ended. He felt he should've been punished more harshly, regardless of what anyone said to him. I do know you must have had some effect on him — he seemed much happier with you in his life than he had before you began your relationship._

_I'm sure you feel empty without him, like all of the fire that once lived inside of you has been doused. Other men look at you, but you can never look back at them because you know nothing will ever compare to being loved by a Malfoy. No one will ever consume you and make you feel so deeply. When I thought Lucius would be going back to Azkaban or receiving the Dementor's Kiss, I started mourning him. His actions had been despicable, and he'd allowed so much evil under our roof that there were days I wanted to kill him myself. But I never could — never would — do that. He is the other half of my heart, and I can't imagine what it would be like to live with half a heart._

_I'm not sure why I'm telling you all of this. I guess I'm concerned by Lucius' description of your appearance, and he told me that you'd been hospitalised at Christmas. I think his concern for you is genuine, even if he is the one who started this whole mess. When I look at Draco, I can see that he realizes something is different, that something is missing from his life. He obviously doesn't know what it is, but he feels an absence. When he looks at Astoria, it goes one of two ways, like he has conflicting emotions about her. He smiles at her like she's the love of his life — which is how I imagine he looked at you before this mess — or he looks at her with confusion, like he doesn't know why she's there. I know she can tell, as well. She thinks she loves him with her whole heart, but he is all she has ever known. This marriage contract was in the works before the war, when she was just a young girl..._

_I mostly wanted to send you this photo and thank you for your sacrifice, even if I think it was unnecessary. Families are evolving, both in the Muggle and wizarding worlds. I know it would have been a scandal, but our family has so many misdeeds to our name that a divorce wouldn't have really been considered horrible. I wish you would've come to me, or gone to Draco, rather than caving to Lucius' demands. But we cannot change the past._

_Please know that Scorpius is so loved by both of his parents and all of his grandparents. We're going to make sure he's raised correctly, which is something we didn't really excel at with Draco._

_However, his good nature somehow remained. You, one of the most selfless, kindest witches in history, fell in love with him, so we must not have done a horrible job with him._

_If ever you need anything, please send me an owl, Hermione. We are indebted to you in so many ways, and I'll do whatever I can to help you._

_Narcissa Malfoy_

I studied the picture. Draco was holding a tiny baby, Scorpius, and looking down at him with awe in his eyes. It was clear that this child had stolen Draco's heart and I couldn't help but smile at the image. If he could be this happy holding his son, it had all been worth it. I'd done the right thing, even if that meant I was miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!
> 
> I love hearing your thoughts and speculations. Keep sending them my way!


	7. Draco - April 2006

On the morning of our second wedding anniversary, Astoria and I made our way out to the gardens while Scorpius was napping. It seemed like as good a plan as anything else; I'd asked her what we'd done for our anniversary last year, and she'd only smirked at me, telling me we'd conceived Scorpius. I'd been surprised at her flirtatious tone and expression since she hadn't tried to initiate, or even discuss, sex since I'd woken up. My shock had led to an awkward silence and then she'd retreated into the bathroom to shower.

Now I was wondering if I should've taken her words as an invitation.

However, I didn't remember having much of a sex life before the accident, so I was nervous to touch her. What if I did something she didn't like? Did she like it hard and fast? Sweet and slow? What if I couldn't make her finish?

It was almost easier to remain sexually frustrated — I had more questions about Astoria's preferences than answers — and she didn't seem like the type to discuss these things openly. I was terrified to even hug her or hold her hand half the time, since she never touched me, and it was beginning to wear on my nerves.

Growing up, I'd watched my parents be disgustingly affectionate with one another, always taking any opportunity to steal a kiss or a touch, and that's what I imagined my future relationship would be like. I found myself wishing for more memories of Astoria just so I could understand what had been between us a bit more, especially since what I could remember wasn't all that clear.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely heard her say my name. Shaking my head, I looked up and met her eyes. "I'm sorry, Stori. I was in a bit of a fog. What did you say?"

She looked put out, like I had been intentionally ignoring her, and I felt like shit.

"I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner or something tonight. You know, maybe get out of the Manor for a bit? It's been months," she said quietly.

I didn't even have to think about my answer. "That sounds wonderful. Is there somewhere specific you'd like to go?"

Smiling, she replied, "I'm sure your parents will have an excellent recommendation since they've been to a few new places recently."

"What if we went somewhere we used to go? I know I can't remember, but it would be nostalgic for you."

She hesitated, and I wondered how I had treated her before. At any mention of the past, she flinched and I grew suspicious. I didn't really understand any of it, but every time I'd asked, she'd said we'd been perfectly happy before and I was a wonderful husband.

Finally, she said, "I think I want to go somewhere new. It feels like we're starting over, Draco, and we're essentially getting to know each other again. I don't long for the life we had before because I'm so happy to have you here with me and Scorpius all the time."

"I wasn't around much before?" I questioned.

With a sigh, Astoria replied, "No. You were always working. It's one of the reasons I'm glad you haven't gone back. You were nearly obsessed with the DMLE and spent all your time there every day. Sometimes, you'd barely come home for dinner before heading back out." She kept walking, though she was visibly nervous, wringing her hands and bowing her head. "I didn't like being alone all the time. It wasn't the kind of life that I wanted."

I reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her to face me. "I'm sorry I left you alone so often. I promise you, even if I do go back to work, it won't be the same this time, Astoria. I want to be present for both you and Scorpius."

"I'd prefer it if you did something different if you want to work again, Draco. I don't want you getting sucked back into being an Auror and never leaving your work at the office," she said quietly, not meeting my eyes. "I don't think I could handle it a second time around."

I didn't respond verbally. Pulling her close, I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head. I thought back to my conversation with Potter, the way he'd said I had been one of the best at what I did, and I didn't think I could promise Astoria that I'd never return to it. Her arms stayed at her sides, the embrace feeling awkward. While I'd thought of kissing her, I couldn't bring myself to attempt it if she was uncomfortable with a simple hug.

Letting go of her, I started walking back towards the Manor. She followed in my wake, looking a bit upset. I was sure she hadn't missed my reluctance to say I wouldn't rejoin the Aurors and was upset over it.

But something deep inside me was telling me that I needed to go back there, to the DMLE, to regain a part of my old life.

* * *

When we got back to the Manor, my parents were having tea in the main sitting room. We moved to join them and my father held up his hand. "You weren't invited to sit with us. Go get changed and pack your bags. It's your anniversary, and you shouldn't be spending it around the Manor with us."

I looked at him questioningly, hoping he'd give a further explanation. He just sighed.

"Draco," my mother chimed in. "We just went to the Ministry and secured you two a Portkey to Paris! We thought it would be nice if you took a couple of days to yourselves. We'll look after Scorpius. I'm sure you'll be able to make arrangements to stay somewhere when you get there."

Astoria was visibly excited, but I felt my cheeks heat. _Were my parents essentially telling us to go to Paris and shag for a few days?_

"I'll go and start getting ready! Even if we just go for the day, Draco, it would be lovely!" she exclaimed.

Smiling, she turned and strode out of the room, likely anxious to get to the wizarding shopping district in Paris. For a moment, I stared blankly, my brain trying to make some sort of connection.

_Paris. With Astoria._

When had we last travelled there together? I knew we'd gone, but I couldn't remember anything about it. There was absolutely nothing — not even a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower or a cobblestone street.

It seemed I had gaps specific to Paris — or at least the last time I'd been to Paris with Astoria — and I found myself frozen, trying to figure yet another conundrum out.

"Draco? Are you okay?" my mother asked, and I heard both my parents' chairs scraping against the floor as they stood.

Rubbing my hands over my eyes, I said, "When did Astoria and I go to Paris?"

When I spoke, my mother let out a relieved sigh. "You've only been once with Astoria — last summer. July or August, right, Lucius?"

"Right. In celebration of the baby. You had photos taken in Paris for the Prophet last summer," he replied. "Hasn't Astoria ever shown them to you? They were her idea."

"Obviously not," I answered, my tone a bit more rude than it should've been. "Sorry, it's just… Since the accident, this doesn't really feel like my life sometimes. I can _feel_ things missing. It's hard to explain, but it's frustrating."

My parents exchanged a look, but I didn't know what it meant, and I didn't want to ask. I'd learned long ago that they had an unspoken language that I would never understand.

"Is there anything we can do to help you, Draco?" my father asked.

I shook my head. "Sometimes I wish that I just had someone to talk to — someone who could tell me what exactly my life was like before this accident."

My father raised an eyebrow. "What do you need to talk about, Draco?"

"Things still feel… off. With Astoria. I thought it was just because I couldn't remember before, but now—"

"I'm sure you were right, Draco. The missing memories are likely clouding things for you," my mother began. "I've no doubt that Astoria loves you and is committed to making your marriage work. She almost lost you, and I think she's afraid to say something to upset you."

In moments like this one, I found myself wishing that Blaise was around. I had no contact with friends; the only people I'd spoken to since the accident were my parents, Astoria, and occasionally Pansy. My conversations at the hospital had mainly pertained to Scorpius.

"How much can she really love me if she doesn't even touch me?" I asked. "When I tried to hug her in the garden, her arms never even left her sides. She won't even hold my hand, let alone f—"

"Don't say it," my mother squeaked. "I don't need to hear about that part of your life." Pausing, she looked at me, and she must've been able to tell I was desperate. With a sigh, she asked, "Have you tried talking to her?"

"Of course not! Did you miss the part about hugging and hand holding? How do you think a conversation about sex will go?"

Clearing his throat, my father said, "Well, since Scorpius is here, you were clearly having sex before the accident."

"But that's the thing! I can't remember ever having sex with her after the honeymoon!" I blurted.

They both looked stunned, and with the way they behaved, I wasn't surprised at all. Since they were so handsy, infrequent sex would be a near impossibility in their minds.

"Well, you clearly did. At least once," my mother stated, her cheeks blushing.

With a sigh, I said, "Nevermind. Forget I brought this up. I know I'm surely going to try to."

"It's understandable that you're frustrated, Draco," my father began. "Why don't you just… take control? It's what I like to do."

At that, I shuddered and left the room. The images he'd just put into my mind were beyond horrifying. I heard their laughter as I made my way to the main staircase, and it made me wish I had that kind of relationship with Astoria. Or with anyone, really. Some days, I found myself wondering why I had settled for an arranged marriage when I could've waited, given myself time to fall in love with a witch properly.

I was honestly envious of my parents' relationship, and I wasn't sure if that was wrong or right.

* * *

When we got to Paris, Astoria started shopping almost instantly. We didn't stop for lunch or to see the sights; she headed for the boutiques the second our Portkey landed. Following her dutifully and commenting at the appropriate times, I thought about what my parents had suggested.

My mother had asked if I'd talked to Astoria. That felt somehow uncomfortable to me — which I knew was wrong — and I didn't particularly want to try it. Taking control of the situation, like my father had said, was marginally more appealing. I didn't feel comfortable rushing straight into sex, but I could try to initiate other types of contact. An arm around the waist as we walked, holding hands at a table, a hug and a peck on the lips from time to time… I might get laid by Christmas.

_Bloody brilliant._

I felt like a fucking teenager again, trying to figure out how fast was too fast and what might scare a girl away.

As we left the fifth boutique, I decided to put my plan in motion. I wrapped my arm around Astoria, my hand settling on her waist. When she felt my touch, she jumped and turned towards me. I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, tightening my hand a bit. She smiled brightly and didn't pull away.

_Progress. Something small, but progress nonetheless._

Honestly, with the way she'd jumped and the way she always looked confused by my attention, I was beginning to think that I used to treat her like an object rather than a person — something pretty to look at, or to take out and use when I needed, but ignored the majority of the time.

"Is there anywhere in particular you want to go, Draco?" Astoria asked with a smile.

I shook my head. "I'm happy to do whatever you'd like to."

Silently, I was hoping that she'd give up on shopping and want to venture around to other parts of the city. I'd been before, but it seemed different now.

"Well, let's keep going, then!"

Plastering on a smile, I continued to follow in her wake, shrinking down her purchases and putting them in my coat pocket. She also picked out items for me, which I had sized and tailored. At least she was being a little thoughtful.

Didn't she know this was torture for me, though?

I kept my annoyance to myself, continuing to touch her and walk with her, mentally calculating the size of the fit my father would throw when he got the next Gringotts statement. When he'd sent us to Paris, he probably hadn't intended for us to spend thousands of Galleons.

Around dinnertime, I finally stopped the shopping spree. "Astoria, we've not eaten all day," I grumbled, and she smiled, trying to placate me.

"Oh, of course! Can you think of anywhere specific you'd like to go?"

I shrugged, honestly having no idea where to go. When I glanced across the street, there was a small bistro on the ground floor of a hotel. Something about the area we were in was familiar, but I couldn't pinpoint when I'd been there. I knew I had; the hotel's red awnings drew my eyes in. Staring blankly ahead at it, my brain tried to make connections, tried to show me the last time I was there, but only the same small flashes came forward.

_Red awnings. A concierge. A tour of a room, overly large and luxurious. But it was just me — no one by my side._

"Do we normally stay in this hotel when we come to Paris?" I asked, not looking over at Astoria.

Her small hand grasped my forearm. "Draco, that's the hotel we stayed at for our anniversary last year. And I'm fairly certain you stayed there when you came to the city for your work trip in February, as well."

Nodding, my mind still clouded, I said, "I can remember being here, but no specifics. And I can't see you here with me."

"Well," she began, a sly smile spreading across her face. "We only really came out for one meal last year."

My head whipped around. "We…? All day?"

"Yes. All day and all night," she replied, placing a hand on her flat stomach. "I'm pretty sure it's when we conceived."

Swallowing hard, I pulled her closer and tentatively pressed my lips to hers. She grew bolder before I did, running her tongue along my bottom lip and coaxing me to open my mouth to her.

Somewhere closeby, a camera flashed, and I wasn't sure if it had been pointed at us or not. I was so wrapped up in this kiss, in the thought of fucking Astoria into the hotel mattress the previous year, that I couldn't be bothered to care. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I groaned when her body was flush against mine. I couldn't remember any contact like this since our honeymoon, her breasts pushing into my chest and her hips rocking towards mine.

I wanted to let my hands roam, to map the gentle curves I'd forgotten with my fingers.

After breaking the kiss, she whispered, "Want to go back? I'll show you what you can't remember."

My arousal overwhelmed me, and I didn't give anything a second thought. We were married. She'd been there for me for the past six months. Even if things weren't perfect between us and she'd annoyed me most of the day, she was who I had, and I was pretty sure I had loved her before. I thought back to the hospital, to when Scorpius was born, and I'd felt love for her then, too.

"Yes," I whispered back. "Yes, I think I'd really like that."

Astoria took my hand and led me into the hotel, the confidence in her strides so different from the way she'd walked through the garden just this morning. It was as if I was suddenly married to a completely different woman — a woman who felt comfortable in her own skin and in our relationship.

The nostalgia she'd so easily dismissed earlier seemed to put a spring back in her step. Before, she'd said she wanted to do something different for our anniversary, to create a new tradition. However, as soon as my parents had brought up Paris, she seemed giddy.

A little confused, I tried to remember anything from the previous year. Again, I only saw the awnings and the concierge, the room tour on my own.

She wasn't there for any of it.

When we walked up to the hotel desk, I gave my name and the woman smiled, murmuring a quiet _un moment s'il vous plaît._ She moved through a door behind her, returning with a man wearing a broad smile.

"Bienvenue, monsieur Malfoy. C'est bon de te revoir," he greeted.

Astoria looked confused, so I answered him in English. "It's good to see you again, too. How are you today?"

"Ahh, the lady doesn't speak French. Such a shame!" he replied, though he looked at Astoria like he'd never seen her before. "What brings you to Paris?"

"Anniversary trip," Astoria said with a smile. "We've been married two years."

The man's eyes widened infinitesimally. "Congratulations. That's… wonderful."

His words and tone seemed at odds, but I wasn't sure if that was because he was translating. His English had seemed smooth before, but it was faltering now. "Thank you," I began. "I know it's last minute, but do you have any rooms available?"

He nodded. "I believe your usual room is free, Monsieur. Would you like that one?"

Looking to Astoria, I asked, "Is that what you had in mind?"

Clearing her throat, she looked at the man and answered, "Yes, I think that would be perfect. It will be good to see it again."

The man spoke to the woman at the desk, telling her to put us in the penthouse, and then turned back to me. "I hope you and your lovely _wife_ enjoy your stay. I will send up a new concierge."

"That will be fine, thank you," Astoria replied before I had the chance.

And with that, we were whisked away to the suite I remembered touring on my own, the large bed and opulent furnishings the same as they had been in my flash of memory. I watched as Astoria took everything in, expecting her to smile. Instead, she looked a little annoyed until she met my eyes.

Smiling broadly, she said, "It's lovely to be here. Thank you, Draco."

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek. "You're welcome."

Turning her head, she captured my lips and kissed me hard, her tongue sliding into my mouth. I felt her hands gripping the front of my shirt, pulling me towards her, and I groaned. The heat she was putting into the kiss was unexpected, but not unwanted.

"Well," she began, smirking when we broke apart. "Why don't we get out of these clothes and into that bed?"

* * *

Astoria and I had spent the night in Paris, rediscovering each other and eating overpriced room service in bed. The memories of our honeymoon were nearly put to shame; Astoria's appetite had been insatiable.

After a particularly vigorous round of shagging, I rolled onto my side, looking into her eyes. "You're beautiful," I said, making her smile. "I really, really needed that. I thought there was something wrong between us."

"What do you mean?" she asked, and I thought she might be playing stupid.

Biting my lower lip, I watched as her eyes darted to my mouth, her breath hitching with arousal. Trying to focus, I replied, "I mean… I could remember having sex for pretty much our whole honeymoon, but not much after. I honestly don't even remember the night Scorpius was conceived."

A small smile settled onto her face. "I was just worried after the baby, love. I look different, and with your memory problems, it just never felt like the right time."

Grinning, I looped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her lips softly. "Oh, Astoria, it's never the wrong time for that. Trust me."

My hand traveled to her breast and she flung a leg over my hip, pushing me to my back and straddling me. Her confidence was unexpected, especially given the statement she'd just made about looking different post-pregnancy.

However, I wasn't going to complain; I'd waited so long to re-establish this part of our relationship, and I would happily let her ride me into the ground if it meant we'd both be happy and open with one another.

"So, Draco," she began, grinding down on me, "shall we continue jogging your memory?"

* * *

Unfortunately, the post-coital bliss was quickly shattered the next morning when I found Astoria crying in the shower.

"What's going on?" Her head snapped up when I slid the glass door open, reaching down to the floor to help her stand. After another second passed, she averted her eyes. "Astoria, talk to me."

"I can't let it go back to how it was," she stated.

Honestly confused, I tangled my hand in her wet hair and tilted her head back, forcing her to meet my eyes. "What do you mean?"

"We can't go back to how we were," she began. "I need this, Draco. I need you to touch me. I need you to be with me the way you were last night."

_Why would she think we'd only have sex for one night? I'm sure it wasn't like that before…_

"I wasn't planning on going back," I said, before leaning down and kissing her softly. "I loved last night, Astoria. Of course I don't want things to go back to how they were. I loved being with you."

Her hand moved from my chest down to my waist and then slid even further, ending up on my cock. She started squeezing me and stroking me, but I stopped her.

"We need to talk about this. Why would you think I'd want to go back after last night?"

Again, she looked away.

"Listen to me, Astoria. I'm not sure what I've done to you in the past, but it's pretty obvious to me that we have some kind of negative history. You shy away from conversations that seem pretty fucking important and flinch when I first touch you. It's been that way since I woke up—"

She cut me off, kissing me again. "I'm sorry. It's like I told you, you were always working before. You were rarely home, and sex…" She paused, sniffling. "Well, let's just say it wasn't a regular occurrence for us after the honeymoon."

My brain struggled to figure out why. It had been good between us last night — more than good. Unable to imagine why I'd ever stop shagging her, I knew I needed to comfort her. I hugged her closer to my chest, one hand on the back of her neck and one on her waist.

It was clear that I'd damaged our relationship, neglecting her and leaving her on her own all the time. Even though I couldn't remember the specifics, I knew I had to apologize. "I'm sorry, Stori. I'm so fucking sorry."

At my words, her face nuzzled against me, her lips kissing my chest. "Just promise me, Draco. Promise me you won't go back. Promise me you want to make this work."

I felt something inside of me twist at her words — likely guilt — and I caved. "I promise I won't go back to behaving that way. Of course I want to make this work. I want to be there for you and Scorp."

Lifting her head, she met my eyes. "Can we move back home? I want to start rebuilding _our_ life, without your parents around."

"Whatever makes you happy," I replied. "I'll do whatever it takes to make my past behavior up to you. I promise."

When she smiled and kissed me, her tears and sour mood almost instantly vanishing, I got a strange feeling, like I'd sold my soul to the devil.

And that was when it hit me — Astoria had said we'd come to Paris for our anniversary last year, but that contradicted what my mother told me, that we'd come last July or August and never before. It was entirely possible my mother hadn't known where Astoria and I spent the day last year, but it still made me wonder if my wife had been honest with me.

Especially since she'd explicitly stated that she wanted to get away from my parents.

The thought was fleeting, vanishing when Astoria's wet body started sliding against mine, her kisses becoming more and more desperate.

What reason would she have to lie?


	8. Hermione - April 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another very emotional chapter for Hermione. It is not worse than the Christmas one, but she does have some rather negative thoughts about herself.

_"She still feels his lips burning against hers,_   
_his touch lingering over her body._   
_The dark echo of his voice resonates deep in her mind,_   
_his hands washing over her like moonlight._   
_He is not here..._   
_Yet he is everywhere."_

_-N.R. Hart_

* * *

My heart was racing and my stomach was churning, threatening to reject the meagre amount of toast and tea I'd managed to swallow before reality had crashed down on me once more.

The Prophet was open to the society pages on my kitchen table and I watched as Draco leaned in and kissed Astoria on the cheek while they were out shopping, celebrating their anniversary in Paris.

Had they taken a photographer along with them, like they had for the fucking maternity photos? Or had Lucius tipped someone off?

It was the first time Draco had really been seen in public since his 'accident' and I was sure the press had been contacting him for interviews since he'd woken up.

His hand was on Astoria's waist, his arm looped around her as they walked. It was the same way we'd used to walk together when we'd get away for a weekend. Even though he was with a different woman, his mannerisms were the same.

However, it was the second picture that sent me into a spin. They were standing across the street from the hotel where we'd spent Valentine's Day last year. _Our_ hotel. _Our_ place. And they were fucking kissing like they'd been in love for _years_. Astoria's arms moved up around his neck, and I saw her tongue work its way into his mouth over and over again, prompting him to angle his hips towards her.

He was _aroused_. He was happy.

I hadn't been special in any way. He didn't need me. Lucius had been right — I was the problem between them. As soon as I was out of the picture, he had fallen in love with her.

It had been six months. Six fucking months and it wasn't any easier. My heart was still beating for him. Why wasn't it going away? I hadn't even seen him, for Merlin's sake. In that moment, I felt exactly the same as I had on the day I'd returned home after erasing his memories. As I watched the photos of Draco and Astoria on a loop, The utter hopelessness came back. He was still fucking perfect, looking as gorgeous as ever, and she was, too. Her long blonde hair was straight and smooth and her tall body was still slim, even post-pregnancy. After he kissed her cheek, she smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness.

Jumping up from my chair, I started pacing, taking a moment to close my Floo off. If Harry and Blaise were around, I was sure they would make their way here after they saw the paper, and I didn't want to see them. I needed to be alone, to grieve.

I hated Astoria. I truly hated her because she was happy and I was miserable. I had given her Draco and, unintentionally, all of my happiness. In my mind, I berated her for being a manipulative cow over and over.

_How dare she take everything away from me!_

_How dare he look at her like that, the way he used to look at me!_

_How could this have happened?_

_How had he fallen in love with her?_

Slowly, my belligerent ramblings came to an end, my logical mind making an appearance.

I had made this decision. I _chose_ to give Draco back to Astoria fully — he had never really been mine in the first place. I chose to sacrifice _my_ happiness for _his_ family. When I really thought about it, I had made him fall in love with her, planting the seeds in his mind. Clearly, they had taken root, growing into something real.

We were never supposed to be together. Our worlds would never mesh like theirs did, especially because his parents would never accept me. Lucius' disdain over our affair had made that clear.

Accepting my fate, I slumped down, my back against the wall. I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried on the floor. I hated Draco and Astoria and Lucius, but it would never measure up to how much I fucking hated myself in that moment.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_It was your anniversary yesterday. I made it through almost the whole day without realising it. Isn't that amazing?_

_However, this morning, your picture was splashed across the society pages. Apparently, you and Astoria went to Paris yesterday. It's only the second time I've seen a recent photo of you, and you look as wonderful as ever. I'm so jealous that she gets to call you her husband. I suppose I've always been jealous of that._

_Yesterday marked two years since the first time we slept together, and six months since the last time. I can still remember the way you taste, the way your hands somehow managed to skim over every inch of my skin when we made love._

_I haven't been with anyone else yet. I'm not ready, and I know that no one will ever compare to you, especially in that department._

_I keep trying to blame your father or Astoria, or on my worst days, you for this whole situation. It's ridiculous. I know that it's all my fault. I chose to do this, to send you away. Over and over, I keep repeating that it was for the best. You have a son. You have a wife. You don't even know what you're missing, what I'm missing. Lucius will kill my parents if I don't stay away from you._

_I just can't stop obsessing. Every time I feel like I've made progress, it all comes crashing down. Sometimes, I get frustrated with myself, especially when other people tell me I need to let you go and try again with someone new, but even the thought of another man touching me is just… repulsive. I just can't do it._

_I don't know how I'm supposed to move on when my brain is completely stuck on you._

_Just know that I miss you, and I regret the decision I made every fucking day. I especially regret today since I saw the love in your eyes when you looked at Astoria in the photo. Good Godric, that fucking hurt._

_I love you. Always._

_Hermione_

* * *

When I didn't show up to work on Monday, Harry took down my wards. He broke into my house and scooped me out of bed, shaking me slightly.

"This isn't you, Hermione! You don't just shut everyone out and not show up to work. I covered for you, but I won't keep doing it!" Harry roared at me, his inner lion making itself known.

I nodded at him, tears filling my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. Harry, I can't — I just can't. I don't know how to keep going," I cried, not knowing what else to do.

Deep down, I knew I was a mess and making horrible decisions, that losing a man was not supposed to make me feel this way. The tenuous control I'd held over my life since January had snapped when I saw the photos of Draco and Astoria in the paper. While I had known I shouldn't be on my own, I didn't call anyone to come stay with me. Blaise was away on a mission, and Harry had Pansy and the boys to care for. Ron was just not an option, and Ginny was already off at a training camp for the Harpies.

Ultimately, I was making excuses. I had consciously decided to shut myself away and not ask for help.

"I should've come when I saw the paper," Harry said, running his hand through his hair. "Good Godric, I fucked up again. I convinced myself you'd come to Grimmauld Place if you needed me. Fuck, I should've known."

Feeling horrible, I grabbed Harry's face. "This is not your fault. I thought I had it all under control, but I realise now that I've just been pretending."

"Hermione, I knew you didn't have things under control, and I've been so wrapped up in my own life that I didn't bother to check in on you. When I saw those pictures in the paper, I knew that you'd be upset. I'm a selfish arsehole," Harry stated, his voice firm.

I took a deep breath, knowing this was going to be hard for me to admit. "I think I need help again. I… think it would be best if you took me back to the hospital for a while. You're absolutely right; I'm still not coping well. I've not left the bed except to use the loo since Saturday morning."

Seeing the tears in Harry's eyes, I pulled him into an embrace. "Of course I will, but is that really what you want? You could come and stay at ours. You know we have the space."

After a minute or so, I shook my head. "I won't do that, Harry. I don't want to upset Pansy or the boys. I just don't think it's a good idea for me to be on my own right now."

He was conflicted — so worried about me, so frustrated with me — but at the same time, he didn't want me to be alone in the hospital. If I refused to stay with him, he'd want me to stay with a friend — someone who he knew and could contact — but I wouldn't impose on anyone. It was bad enough that I had already done that at Christmas, letting both him and Ron sit there with no acknowledgement. When Blaise got home, he would be furious that I'd readmitted myself rather than staying with a friend, but I couldn't think about him right now. I had to do what was right for me, and I knew I was going to be a bitch to whoever was in charge of caring for me. I'd rather have Penelope Clearwater hate me than Harry, Pansy, or Blaise.

"Hermione, you wouldn't upset Pansy, and the boys are much too young to realise there's anything wrong. Please come and stay with us. If you feel suffocated, or like it's not working, you can choose to go to St. Mungo's or to Zabini's or wherever you'd like," Harry pleaded, trying to make his case.

He seemed so earnest, like he actually _wanted_ me at his house, wanted to take care of me and help me get back to normal. I looked into the green eyes of my best friend, the man who I'd stood by through thick and thin as a teenager, and I realised he needed to do this for me. Harry always wanted things to be equal and I knew he likely viewed this as an opportunity to make things up to me, even though I had never — and would never — ask him to. Thinking about all the people that Harry had loved and lost, I admitted that he likely thought he was in danger of losing me, too. Remembering how he'd reacted to Blaise taking me away for Christmas Eve, I knew the fear was double-edged — he feared losing me to Blaise and losing me altogether, either through death or insanity.

I let out a sigh. "I'll come to Grimmauld and talk to Pansy, but I'm not promising anything, Harry. I know I'm going to be a shrew until I'm back on track again."

Harry laughed. "And you think Pansy can't handle that? Have you met her? She's ten times worse than you are on your worst day!"

"That's an awful thing to say about your wife!" I scolded. "Even if it's true."

Looking sheepish, Harry said, "You may want to clean up. You know, take a shower and all that, before we go. Like I said, Pansy is definitely worse than you could ever dream of being and you're kind of a mess right now."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Like Pansy hasn't made fun of my hair and my clothes my whole life."

"She'd take it to a whole new level today. Trust me." With that, he grabbed my hands and pulled me out of bed. "You're much too light. We're going to have to fatten you up."

I nodded, trying to convey that I'd be fine with that, when really I was terrified of having food forced on me from all angles.

_Would they understand that I needed to build back up to a normal diet again? Would they give me space to just stay in bed if I needed to rest? Would Pansy berate me over what I'd done to Draco? Would she tell me it was time to get over it? It had been six months, after all._

_Would they treat me like I was going to break at any moment?_

These thoughts plagued me as I walked into the bathroom and started the shower. I heard Harry's heavy footsteps moving down the stairs and then the Floo activated. Like I'd assumed he would, Harry had snuck back home, likely to talk to Pansy and warn her that I was in a state. Tears flowing, I undressed, though I carefully avoided looking at my reflection in the mirror. Hopefully, I'd look a little more alive after standing under the hot water and washing.

When I got out of the shower, I lightly towel-dried my hair and ran a comb through it before securing it on the back of my head with a clip. Slipping on my dressing gown, I walked back into my bedroom. Thankfully, Harry was not there — he was either still at Grimmauld Place, trying to convince Pansy to let a complete nutter into her home, or he was waiting for me downstairs. I rummaged through my dresser, pulling out clean knickers, a bra, a pair of jeans, and a grey jumper. Dressing quickly, I slipped my feet into comfortable sheepskin boots.

After that, it was time to face the music — I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. My skin was pale and there were dark circles under my puffy, red eyes. Hollow cheeks and thin, pale lips did nothing to make me look any better.

 _If Draco saw me now, he wouldn't want me,_ I thought to myself. _Where did Hermione Granger go?_

It was honestly like I'd Obliviated myself, too — or I'd at least undergone a radical personality transplant. I was not the same person that I'd been six months ago, or a year ago, or even two years ago. Yes, two years ago, I'd been lonely and felt left behind by Harry and Ron, but I didn't let it affect my health. I still went to work and took care of myself every day, eating, exercising, and sleeping properly. This loneliness was a whole new kind and I didn't know how to handle it.

Before Draco, I hadn't really known what it was like to be half of a whole, to be so entwined with another person that you're inexorably linked. When I Obliviated him, I had forcibly torn us apart at the seams and I'd lost pieces of myself. I somehow hadn't anticipated that those parts would stay with him forever.

I wondered if he could feel them, the missing pieces of me that had clung to him. He may not remember what we had, but he still carried parts of my heart and my — Spirit? Soul? — I wasn't really sure of the appropriate word to use. Meanwhile, I had the memories. I was sure he felt those pieces missing, but I wondered when it really struck him. When did he sense the absence? Did his brain try to make connections only to find a large gap?

I had finally admitted that I loved him on Valentine's Day, nearly a year after the first time we'd slept together, and eight months after we'd started the affair. Had Astoria told him she loved him on Valentine's Day? Had he made love to her? Did she feel the same kind of devotion and focus that I had the previous year? Had I done a thorough enough job that he was capable of feeling that way for her when he hadn't before?

I let out a frustrated groan, my mind not willing to accept that I was replaced that easily. Even though I'd thought it when I saw the photos in the paper, I still didn't want to believe it. It was better — easier — if I just imagined both of us living life incomplete, shattered sections of a former whole unit. I had _chosen_ that life for us.

And I had to learn how to live with it. I had to figure out how to move on.

* * *

When I stepped through the Floo into Grimmauld Place, Pansy was sitting on the couch with baby Severus in her arms. James, it appeared, had already been put to bed. Pansy held a finger to her lips as she stood, walking slowly while rocking the baby. I watched as she carried him up the stairs, trying her hardest not to jostle and wake him. I took her vacated seat and Harry sat beside me, showing solidarity. We waited for Pansy to return in silence. When she walked back down the stairs, she eyed me sceptically.

"Granger, what the fuck is wrong with you?" she spat. "I don't get it. You're in love with Draco and then you _Obliviate_ him and cut him out of your life. You're going to work normally, and then you have a full mental breakdown at Christmas, pulling my husband and Luna's husband into your shite and not talking to them when they come to see you—"

"Pansy, that's enough," Harry stated.

She shook her head at him. "Oh, give me a break, Potter! She needs to face the facts and it's clear that none of you are being blunt with her!" She turned to me. "You need to get your fire back, Granger. I don't know how you maintained it before, but depression isn't a good look on you."

I nearly fell over and Harry looked like he might actually murder his own wife. Of all the horrid, insensitive things I'd ever heard in my life, this had to top the list. She was actually making light of my mental health issues. I wanted to slap her, or punch her, or hex her. I felt my anger rising and my magic crackled in my veins.

Pansy smirked. "There she is. You're still in there somewhere, Hermione," she began. "Think about Lucius. Think about Astoria. Think about how fucking horrible they are for manipulating you into doing this to Draco. But, most of all, think about what they've done to you. Since when does Hermione Granger skip work or let herself go?"

I understood what Pansy was doing, but it didn't make her any less insensitive. I leaned forward, my bony elbows jabbing into the flesh of my thighs, and rested my face in my hands. When Harry stood, I quickly looked up, not wanting him to fight with Pansy on my behalf.

"Listen, Pansy. I know you're trying to help and I'm grateful for that. Merlin knows that I only have a few people who are really in my corner at the moment. But please don't pretend like you understand what I'm going through. I think that's the problem — no one can truly understand these feelings. Harry, Blaise, Ron, Luna, Ginny, you — none of you have been through this. I don't know anyone who has," I explained.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Obviously we haven't been through it. But you need to remember that we've all lost people, and isn't that what it boils down to? You lost Draco, and you're feeling lonelier than you ever imagined possible."

"Don't tell me this is how you felt when you and Draco broke up, Pansy. I swear to Merlin I will hex you so fucking fast—"

Pansy strode over to an armchair and sat down gracefully, her anger not overriding her manners. "Of course I wasn't going to say that. That was infatuation or puppy love or, well, I don't even know. I thought he'd be the best match I could make. I have no practical experience in what you're going through, but we all lost people in the war. You know as well as I do that life goes on whether you're ready or not."

Even though I understood what she was trying to say, I didn't feel like I could start living normally again. My guilt and sorrow were holding me back and I was reluctant to change my circumstances in any way. And yes, I'd lost Draco in a way similar to him being killed, but I'd had a choice. I essentially chose to kill him, to kill our relationship…

And, for that, I deserved to be miserable. I deserved to be alone.

Sensing my downward spiral, Pansy spoke again. "Listen, maybe that was a shitty comparison, but you've likely been in bed since you saw that Prophet article and you didn't even owl the Ministry today. That's not like you, Granger. I may not know you well, but I know enough to see that your behavior is not normal. You're not really living. You're just sort of… existing. I can see you've lost all the weight you put back on after Christmas, and your eyes look like they've been punched."

I knew Pansy would be harsh about my appearance, so I wasn't offended by her commentary on that subject. However, I was still upset about the way she'd trivialized my depression and then told me to use rage to claw my way out.

While I knew I could hate Lucius and Astoria for hatching the whole scheme with my parents, deep down, I knew that I had been the one to make the choice. My wand was the one that had removed Draco's memories.

And the horrible part? I hadn't even stopped to consider the alternative. I just decided to let go of Draco, to kill the version of him that I knew, and I did it as quickly as possible. I let my guilt over the affair and my concern for my parents outweigh my normal overthinking nature. I didn't look at both sides of everything, and I suddenly realized that was what I couldn't cope with. I hated myself for what I did to Draco, but more than that, I hated myself for just making a snap decision and sticking to it. That was completely out of character for me.

I let myself get lost in my own thoughts, blocking Harry and Pansy out completely. How had I not looked for every alternative before I turned my wand on Draco? I'd not really discussed things with Harry or Blaise or, hell, even Draco. He was a strong enough Occlumens that he could've hidden our conversations from his father. Surely Harry and I could've found a way to discreetly relocate my parents before Lucius could act. We'd overcome worse odds when we were teenagers without the full might of the Ministry behind us.

Looking back, I don't know how this thought had never struck me before. I'd gone through various stages of anger with myself and with others, waves of crushing sadness, and short periods of recovery. Not once had I ever realized I'd just basically said fuck it without giving it a second thought. In a way, since the day Draco had told me about the pregnancy, I'd been distancing myself. Thinking back, I was also angry with him — so fucking angry that he'd slept with Astoria, that he'd gotten her pregnant, as twisted as that was. And I had also been angry with myself — I was all for empowering women, but I had been sleeping with another woman's husband. For the love of Merlin, just to be with him, I'd changed my core values. But I knew I wouldn't be able to give him up as long as we were in close proximity. If he kept pursuing me, I'd relent, just like I had at the beginning of everything.

I could feel the tears streaming down my face, but I didn't care. I was so deep in my self-loathing, a darkness the likes of which I'd never felt overwhelming me. My brain was repeating the facts on a loop.

_You slept with him, knowing he was getting married the next day. When he got back from his honeymoon, you let him chase you for a month, all over London and the office, and then you gave in. Shagging him became your first priority that summer — you skipped out on all your friends, all your plans. Blaise warned you that none of it would end well._

Harry's hands were on my shoulders — he was kneeling in front of me, trying to get me to respond to him, but I couldn't. I just fucking couldn't stop the tirade my brain had begun.

 _And then you let him take you away for your birthday._ _It was an affair, something fun to pass the time, and Draco was willing to make the time for you_ _. Harry and Ron were still busy, still new parents, wrapped up in their perfect fucking lives._

"Hermione! What's going on? You need to answer me!" Harry's voice was raised, not quite at a shout, but still loud.

Pansy walked over into my line of sight, but I didn't acknowledge her either. "Harry, she can't be here if she's like this. Can you imagine how terrifying it will be for James?!" she hissed, and I couldn't even muster the strength to refute what she said, especially since I agreed with her. I didn't want James to see me like this.

_Christmas Eve in France, Valentine's Day in Paris… It was obsession, infatuation, and you encouraged it. Over time, his guilt started to fall away, and he started spending even more of his time with you. Astoria probably noticed, was at home feeling just as abandoned and neglected as you once had, and you let it continue._

_Every time you tried to walk away, you caved. You didn't want to hurt him, even if it meant continuing to hurt Astoria and yourself. When he was gone, at home where he should've been all along, you were hurting, but then he'd come back, and you'd be flying high again. The relationship was bipolar — the lowest of lows, the highest of highs — rarely a steady, comfortable thing. You were both so wrapped up in each other, completely co-dependent. It wasn't healthy…_

Harry's hand cupped my cheek, and I met his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry," I cried. "I'm sorry. I'll go. I'll take care of myself. Pansy's right. I'm not fit to be around children right now. I don't want to scare James."

"Hermione, I won't let you do this alone. Please, let me help you. You've always been there for me, through everything—"

Losing control of myself, I let out a roar. "You don't owe me anything for that, Harry! And, if you did, it would've been nice if maybe you'd repaid it long before now! Maybe before I got sucked into the twisted relationship with Draco in the first place!"

With a look of despair frozen on his face, Harry stood up and stepped back. "What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Haven't you ever wondered why this whole thing with Draco started? Do I normally strike you as the type to have an affair with a married man?"

Pansy's hands were on her hips, her eyes narrowed at me. Harry just looked at me, the guilt already consuming him. I knew what these words would do to him, but I couldn't stop them.

"Ron and I broke up, and then you and Ginny, and I know that was partially my fault. I know I wasn't supposed to end up with Ron, but I was still hurting. I was hurting, and I had Ginny, but then she left, too. All I wanted was my best friend and you wouldn't even look at me. What happened that night — we were drunk, Harry! It didn't mean anything," I said, begging him to understand. "And after that, you and I basically only ever spoke at work and Ron still wasn't speaking to me at all."

"Hermione, what you did—" Harry began.

I shook my head and interrupted him. "I know. It was wrong and you were upset with me. But three years later, I would've thought that our friendship would've been repaired! After everything we'd been through together, I mean, I know you were busy falling in love and Ron was, too, but I was alone! That night, at Draco's stag party, I was so drunk and you didn't even realise I was there! You didn't speak to me the whole bloody night!"

At this, he looked ashamed.

"I'm not blaming you, so don't take it that way. I'm trying to explain to you that I was alone and Draco gave me everything he could. He made time for me and opened up to me. I hadn't had that kind of emotional intimacy with anyone in _years_." I took a deep breath. "You and I grew apart. That was probably good for us in some ways. We became our own people, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt, that I didn't miss you and Ron. We were a trio, or at least a duo, for so long, and then it was gone. I didn't know how to be alone."

"So it's everyone's fault but your own, Granger?" Pansy snapped.

I glared at her. "No, it's most definitely my fault. But I've never told him how his actions affected me and he's trying to fix me when he barely knows me anymore, Pansy!"

"Hermione," Harry began. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I'd known you were struggling, I would've helped you. Why didn't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter," I stated. "I'm going to go now. I'll send Kingsley an owl and get checked in again. Please, let's just drop it."

He stared at me and I could see the pain in his eyes. I'd lashed out and caused that.

_Misery loves company and Merlin knows you're a miserable fucking shrew these days._

"I shouldn't have come here. I'm making a wreck of everything lately, and I was upset so I lashed out at you," I rambled. "I love you, Harry. I always have and I always will. None of this is your fault. It's mine and no one else's."

"We need to talk about this! We don't just — we shouldn't just let it fester. You know me. You know I'm not going to think of anything else until we talk about it. I just… I can't believe you've never told me any of this." Standing from the couch, I got dizzy and almost fell. Harry caught me and held on tightly. "You're not going anywhere until you've had some water and eaten something. I might not have been there before, Hermione, but I am sure as hell here now. I won't let you suffer on your own. I'll do whatever you need me to."

Pansy was silent, watching us as her husband took me into his arms and hugged me like I was on the verge of vanishing. I knew she was holding back; she wanted to tear me to shreds for upsetting Harry. In my absence, she'd become his fiercest protector.

I felt my tears starting again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

He shushed me. "No, you definitely should've. A long time ago. Avoiding each other outside of work was wrong. You're like my sister. I love you, no matter what. I hate seeing you like this. I hate that I didn't realise what was going on. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

We swayed in place, Harry holding onto me and trying to cheer me up. It reminded me of the Horcrux hunt, of when we were on our own, and he swept me into a dance to try to make me feel better. All those nights spent in the tent, some of which we didn't utter two words during, comfortably sharing the silence. Lashing out at him was wrong on so many levels. Growing apart was a part of growing up, and it was something that needed to happen. He'd found Pansy once I wasn't around and they were so well-suited. She'd given him James and Severus. In a way, she'd given me children, too. I loved my godsons more than anything at this point in time.

Sheepishly, I looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Pansy. I keep disrupting your life, and it's wrong. I'm a grown woman and I made bad choices. I should be able to fix this on my own."

She let out a sigh. "Bloody fucking Gryffindors. Honestly, Granger, you need to stop trying to be so fucking brave. You need to let people help you right now. You're a total fuck up on your own, and you're not going to get any better if you keep pretending you don't need anyone."

Those words were essentially the equivalent of an invitation to stay at Grimmauld Place, Pansy never being one to readily open herself and her home up to others.

"Stay, Hermione," Harry said. "We can arrange something with Penelope where you can go in for appointments or something. Please don't push me away. We need to fix this. Just… stay with us. The boys will make you feel better, too."

I sniffled. "Now that's just manipulative, Harry. You know I can't resist those two little boys."

He pulled back and smiled at me. "I've always known how to get what I want. Especially when it comes to you."

Smacking his chest, I almost smiled. I felt my lips quirking up a bit, but they didn't quite make it all the way. I knew there was so much more I'd have to tell Harry; he wouldn't drop what I'd said to him until he felt sure that things were fine between us.

And, if I was being honest, part of fixing myself was going to require fixing my relationship with Harry. After I'd started sleeping with Draco, I'd pushed my best friend even further away, and that had been wrong. I needed him back in my life. I planned on talking to Penelope about my feelings of abandonment, so maybe she would be able to help me repair things with Harry.

A moment later, Pansy said, "If you two are done hugging it out or whatever the fuck that was, we can go down to the kitchen. I'll make you something to eat, Granger. You look like a walking skeleton in a skin suit." Harry shot her a look and she smiled at him. "Don't start with me, Potter. She's fine with the way I am. She knows what I'm like now. I'm not all warm and fuzzy. I express love through sarcasm."

I watched as Harry bit the inside of his cheek, likely holding back a comment about the other ways his wife expressed love. He turned and slung an arm around my shoulders, guiding me down the stairs in Pansy's wake.

"She's right, you know," I told him. "I do understand her. I really don't get offended by anything she says anymore."

Harry just nodded. "Thank Godric, because I think a fight between the two of you would likely tear this bloody house down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note - my team is incredible. I slashed this chapter to bits on Thursday and rewrote parts of it. They all took the time to look it over again, and I'm incredibly grateful.
> 
> Also, while we're on the subject of gratitude... Every Part of Me won the "When Life Gives You Lemons" category for Granger Enchanted 2020! Thank you so much to everyone who voted. It means a lot to me that my first story got that little bit of recognition.
> 
> If you're a part of Dramione Fanfiction Forum on Facebook, they're doing a book club for Guarding the Dragon over the next couple of weeks. Pop in if you'd like!


	9. Hermione - May 2006

I had been staying with Harry and Pansy for over a month, and I was slowly starting to feel better. Since Grimmauld Place had an unoccupied top floor, I made that my own space. Harry and Pansy ensured I came to meals, but other than that they left me to my own devices. I found myself wanting to spend time with James and Severus, so I chose to come out on my own more often than not. Every night, I would read a book to James at bedtime. I would sit up with Sev when he was fussy and Harry and Pansy needed a night off. Both boys radiated unconditional love and I was always willing to bask in it.

When Blaise found out I had almost hospitalized myself again, he was furious. I told him the whole story about the anniversary and seeing the photos in the paper. I was honest about not eating or drinking anything substantial all weekend and my fight with Harry. It had been a very difficult conversation, and he felt guilty for being away, despite my near-constant reminders that he was _working_ and couldn't be expected to just come to me at the drop of a hat.

While Blaise was happy I finally had the long overdue conversation with Harry, he was upset that I hadn't reached out for help sooner. He offered me a place to stay and told me his door and Floo were always open for me. Since then, he had been making it a point to either have lunch or invite me to dinner a few times a week, likely to make sure I was eating. I was sure Harry had enlisted his help.

Three times a week, I went to St. Mungo's to meet with Penelope. We talked about everything that popped into my mind and I eventually invited Harry to come to a session with me. Explaining my feelings to Harry about the years he'd essentially been absent from my life was easier with her there. When I couldn't express myself properly, she was able to step in and help. It was strange at first, but I really felt she understood me in a way that no one else ever had. With Penelope's help, Harry and I were getting to know each other again and working through our issues. We may have been different people than we were four years ago, but we still held a lot of love for one another. Non-romantic love, of course — the thought of Harry Potter naked just made my face flame and stomach turn.

However, even though I'd basically repaired one friendship, the next step was bringing Ron in. When we finally did that, I knew things would get harder. Ron had never really forgiven me for our break up and I wasn't sure he ever would. He had been far more invested in our relationship than I had been and I'd hurt him deeply. While Ron had moved on and married very quickly, Harry told me that it had been a struggle for him.

One drunken mistake had changed the course of a handful of lives. Copious amounts of alcohol clearly spelled relationship trouble for me, and it was definitely on my list of things to avoid. Penelope and Harry both agreed — I couldn't party my way through the pain.

But I also couldn't keep living the way I had been.

In private, Harry and I had decided I needed to tell Ron the truth about Draco. He'd never understand what was truly going on with me unless I did. I knew it was going to be a fight of epic proportions, but I was hopeful we'd be able to slowly move past everything afterwards.

And Pansy, well, she'd been a godsend. I don't know when it happened, but we became friends. If I moped for more than a day, she would find a way to pull me out of it. A few times, she'd simply asked me to go to the park with her and the boys or sent me out to Diagon Alley. She gave me purpose when I needed it to ground me. While my job also did that, I didn't want to make my whole life about work. It hadn't been helpful in the past and I thought it might actually be a hindrance to me right now. There were too many memories of Draco within the DMLE, especially in my office, and spending more time there seemed like a horrible idea.

After a while, the days started to blend together again. Being part of a unit, both at home and at work, had helped me to regain my balance. Talking through my feelings a few times a week certainly didn't hurt, either. I was writing in my journal less and less. Spilling my heart to Draco like I was some silly teenage girl just didn't feel right anymore. I still loved him, but I didn't think I'd be able to move on while I was still making him my focus.

Evening after evening, I considered trying to put myself back out there. I knew I didn't want to be alone forever. While I loved functioning as part of Harry's family, I wanted to create one of my own and I couldn't do that by myself. Sure, adoption was always a possibility for me, but I wanted a partner. I wanted someone to go to bed with every night and wake up with every morning.

And I missed sex. A lot.

I'd been keeping the letter I received from Narcissa Malfoy, along with the photo of Draco and Scorpius, folded up inside my journal. From time to time, I'd take it out and read it over. One thing she'd said really stood out to me, and I was so terrified it was true that I didn't want to try to be with anyone else.

_I'm sure you feel empty without him, like all of the fire that once lived inside of you has been doused. Other men look at you, but you can never look back at them because you know nothing will ever compare to being loved by a Malfoy. No one will ever consume you and make you feel so deeply._

When I considered that statement, I knew the first part was true. My inner fire was surprisingly absent most days. I was lucky if I felt a strong emotion other than sadness. My anger would flare occasionally, but not in the way it used to.

Was it true that I'd never be able to look at another man the same way? Would I honestly never feel for someone deeply again?

Thinking back to the months before the affair started, I remembered the deep loneliness I'd felt, like no one wanted to take a chance on me. They were either intimidated by my hero status or assumed I'd constantly have my nose stuck in a book. Somehow, Draco had seen through all of that for years — he'd just never acted on his feelings until it was too late.

If I had to go the rest of my life without love similar to what I'd felt with Draco, I'd be devastated. As badly as things had ended, I'd never felt more alive than when we were together. I wanted to wake up every morning and experience every minute of every day fully. He'd given me something that no one else ever had and I was still eternally grateful for that. I knew no two loves could ever be the same, but I wanted to find something that came close.

The problem was that I didn't really know how to meet people and date. Spending half my life in the office limited the dating pool and I had already decided I would never, ever go there again. Interoffice romance was definitely disastrous, especially once it was over. I was fortunate enough to not see Draco every single day, but I'd watched others deal with the fallout after the fact. I was not interested in moving to a different department within the Ministry just because of a failed relationship.

As embarrassing as it was, I resolved to ask Penelope what she thought I should do to try to meet people. I wasn't willing to go the bar route again. I was sure that Hannah would kill me if I started haunting the Leaky like I'd used to. Despite the obvious complications it would present, I was considering trying my hand at dating in the Muggle world. Pansy rolled her eyes whenever I mentioned it, saying I'd violate the Statute of Secrecy within ten minutes since I only knew how to talk about magical topics I'd read about in old books. I always responded with a glare and she would smile at me sweetly.

Even though we had become friendly, I often found myself wondering why Harry had married Pansy of all people. They were the most unlikely pair, but they somehow complemented each other perfectly. Always in sync, always cautious of the other's feelings. It was almost eerie sometimes.

On this particular Thursday night, I felt like I had to write in the journal. It had been nearly two weeks since I'd even opened it and I was feeling guilty. As inappropriate as that was, I needed to get my emotions and words out. I sat at the small desk I'd set up in the bedroom at Grimmauld Place and took the little purple volume out of my handbag. I looked at the photo of Draco and Scorpius for the millionth time and sighed. I'd never seen a more beautiful child, and his father was still as handsome as he'd been two years ago when this whole mess had started.

I had plenty of other photos of Draco, but the happiness illuminating his face was so pure that I couldn't look away. Throughout our tumultuous relationship, we'd always been in hiding. There was no chance for us to fully let go and just be. In this photo, he was free and happy, openly showing every emotion he felt on his face. The baby he'd been so terrified to have was the light in his life and I was so happy he'd embraced fatherhood. I ran a finger over Draco's face and then Scorpius's, wishing I could really touch them.

But I knew that would never happen.

In Draco's mind, we'd never even formed a friendship, nevermind a sexual or emotional relationship. We were co-workers, polite acquaintances who had gone to school together when we were younger. Nothing more, nothing less. We exchanged books around the holidays and cordial greetings the rest of the year. The thought that we were actually even less than that now hurt me more than I wanted to admit. With a sigh, I began writing.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I think I'm actually getting a bit better finally. I know, it's taken me so long. Strangely, Pansy Parkinson-Potter is the one who has helped me the most, save Penelope. She really is a great friend when she wants to be. I never understood why you kept her around when we were younger, but I get it now. After you get used to her attitude and quirks, she's quite wonderful. Merlin, I never thought I'd be saying something like that. Although I never thought I'd fall in love with a world-class git like you, either. I guess life can be full of surprises._

_I know it's been awhile since I've written in this journal, but I'm trying to move on. Sometimes I feel like writing to you holds me back, you know? If I'm telling you I love you all the time, will it ever stop? Because, while I don't want it to stop, I think I need it to. You're gone, and I can't let you be the centre of my universe anymore. I'm hoping that I'll be able to let pieces of you back in somewhere down the road. I like to imagine us crossing paths in Diagon Alley or maybe on Platform 9 ¾ one day. Even if I never have my own children, I can see myself there with James and Severus, sending them off for a very different seven years than we got at school._

_I wonder what you'll look like eleven years from now. Will your eyes still haunt my dreams, even then?_

_I'm going to tell Ron about what happened between us and I'm terrified it will make things worse. We know he was never your biggest fan, especially after Auror training. I always told him he needed to study more, but did he ever listen to me? Of course not._

_It's so strange — I've received letters from both of your parents and had a civil conversation with your father. Those are two things I never would've imagined possible. Sadly, they're not in the context I'd like them to be in. I wish it could've happened before you were married, that I had worked harder to reach out to the families from the other side of the war to express that I held no hard feelings. Maybe then, your father would've grown to like me or respect me and you would have approached me before you were married. Maybe we could've been happy._

_Do you see what I mean, love? Every time I start to feel a bit better, these what-if scenarios start spinning in my head, and half the time I feel guilty for something that I can't change now. I need it all to stop if I'm ever going to move on. So, here it goes. I'm going to apologise for something and try to start the process of letting go._

_After your anniversary, I realised that I never really stopped to consider my options. Once your father threatened my parents and told me what to do, I just went with it. The guilt that had been eating me up, along with the additional threat… It just made something snap inside of me. I had tried to end things more than once before, and this seemed like a means to an end, a way that I could really put a stop to everything. I knew that we'd never really be able to let go if we both had a choice, so I took yours away. I am truly sorry I did that to you; I know it was all kinds of wrong._

_Even more so than that, I know it was unfair to take your memories and leave you with nothing. At the very least, I can still remember the way it felt to be with you, to kiss you, to make love to you. Merlin, I don't know if I'll ever feel that kind of physical connection with someone ever again. Half of me really doesn't want to, I think. I want to believe that there was a reason we carried on the way we did, a reason why I'm suffering through all this heartache now that you're not here._

_I just… miss you. Everything about you. For the longest time, while I was constantly upset and crying, I wanted to run to you so you could hold me. Remembering over and over again that wasn't possible was a whole new kind of emotional torture. Oh, and then there are the people in the little town I live on the outskirts of! They were all so accustomed to seeing us together. They asked after you for weeks, so I started avoiding the place. Eventually, though, I needed my special coffee, and I knew it wasn't healthy to avoid everything that reminded me of you. Not that it was possible, anyway. I'd have to quit my job and move out of my house to reach that level of avoidance. I suppose I'm halfway there now since I've been at Harry's for over a month._

_But, at the very least, I know you're a little bit happy. Your mother was kind enough to send me a photo of you holding Scorpius. I'm being entirely genuine and not sarcastic at all. I was happy to see it. He honestly looks just like you — your spitting image. I do hope that the girls his age will be prepared once he grows into his features. By fifteen, he'll be completely gorgeous and everyone will want to be his date to Hogsmeade. I'll have to warn Ron and Luna, even though their daughter will be a year ahead of Scorpius._

_I do hope that we can maybe become acquainted again someday — when I'm feeling better and it hopefully won't hurt as much to see you. Though the thought of being around you again does scare me if I ever do find someone else._

_Please forgive me — for the Obliviation, for not thinking about it like I should have, for being selfish and wanting to hold on to the memories when you don't get to. And for not writing as much as I was before. Like I said, I need to start letting go, and constantly spilling my heart out to you isn't going to help with that at all._

_I still love you, so very much. I wish things were different every day, but there is really no sense in that. Wishes don't change anything, and I haven't got a time-turner, so we're stuck where we are for the moment. I hope that your love for Scorpius outweighs what we lost._

_Hermione_

* * *

Blaise entered my office one evening, dressed in his normal Auror robes, and closed the door softly. His dark eyes surveyed me and he forced a smile. I could feel that something was off; he'd never been one to fake his emotions. Clearly worried, he stepped forward.

"Hermione," he began. "There is someone here to see you, and I'm honestly not sure if I should let them through. I know you've been doing a bit better, but—"

I didn't hear the rest of Blaise's words; my heart had started pounding in my ears and my thoughts were swirling in my head like a tornado.

_Was it Draco? Did he remember something? Was he here to confront me and demand that I return his memories? Had Astoria told him? Was he leaving her? Was there something wrong? Could he not form new memories? Sweet Morgana, I hoped that wasn't the case._

Blaise grabbed my shoulders and brought me back to reality. "Did you even hear a single thing I said?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I… Who's here to see me, Blaise?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," he sighed. "I told her that I didn't think it was a good idea, and she kindly reminded me about how she essentially took me in over school breaks when my mother had a husband I didn't like. The woman is a snake."

Swallowing hard, I asked, "Did she tell you why she was here?" Blaise shook his head, gesturing that he had no idea. I mentally debated for a minute, trying to weigh the pros and cons of speaking with Draco's mother. After all, she had written me that letter, and I'd never responded. "Let her in. I'll be fine."

He looked at me sceptically, but opened the door and strode out, going to fetch Narcissa. This gave me time to pull out a compact and check my reflection. At least I hadn't been playing with my hair all day and it was still somewhat styled. I was sure Draco's mother would look impeccable as always. When Blaise brought her in, leading her by the elbow like a proper pureblood gentleman, my assumption was confirmed. Her deep purple robes were perfectly tailored to her tall, lithe form and her hair was straight and sleek. When she met my eyes, she smiled at me and I couldn't understand why. I reciprocated, hoping she couldn't see my confusion.

"Ms. Granger, thank you for seeing me," she stated. "I wanted to chat with you about…"

I gestured for Blaise to close the door. Looking her in the eyes, I asked, "About Draco? It's fine — Blaise knows everything. You can speak freely in front of him."

With a frown, she turned to Blaise. "How long did you know about their relationship, Blaise?"

"Since the very beginning," he admitted. "I found them together the morning after the stag party and I figured out they'd started things up after Draco's birthday."

I felt my cheeks heating and watched as she glared at him. "And you let him marry Astoria?"

Blaise nodded, confirming what I obviously already knew to Narcissa.

"Well, then you're just as stupid and blameworthy as my husband is for this whole mess, Blaise. I'm so very disappointed in you," she scolded.

A grown man — twenty-six years old, to be exact — looked chastened by Narcissa's remarks. He didn't speak, likely knowing that she'd not take kindly to excuses. As lovely and proper as she was, she was just like any other mother, and everyone already knew how fiercely protective she was of Draco, given her actions in the final battle.

Was it possible she could have been an ally for me through all of this? She'd essentially said as much in her letter, but I'd only half-believed her. It was an easy thing to write to a distressed girl, but I could see the fiery look in her eyes when she spoke to Blaise.

When she turned to me, I didn't know what to say. Was there an appropriate way to speak to a terrifying witch whose son you had a torrid affair with?

"Dear, I wish you'd have written back to me. I've been very worried about you," she began. "Lucius often thinks of you, as well."

I snickered. "I doubt Lucius really cares if I live or die, Mrs. Malfoy, as long as I stay away from Draco."

"On the contrary. He is quite regretful since he spoke to you a few months ago. And please, call me Narcissa."

"Narcissa, I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" I asked, not sure how long I could maintain the guise of civil conversation, even if she'd done nothing wrong.

She looked at me with pity and it stung. "Well, like I said, you never responded to me. You've not been seen in public for quite some time. I wanted to check in on you." She paused, her eyes scanning over me. "Honestly, it doesn't matter if Draco doesn't remember that he cared for you. I know he did, and I feel like I should be checking in on you for him. If you mattered to him before, you matter to me now."

I didn't know what to say so I just stared at her, my eyes filling a bit and my lips likely quivering.

Acting as my protector, Blaise stepped around my desk, placing his palm on my shoulder. "Narcissa, she's trying to move on. She knows that Draco cared for her, but the fact of the matter is, he just doesn't anymore. He doesn't remember their relationship at all and she made him think he loves Astoria. I don't think she needs you and Lucius reminding her of what she's lost."

"That wasn't my intention," the older woman breathed. "I just wish — I wanted him to be happy. I wanted Draco to have something for himself."

Blaise nearly laughed, which was completely inappropriate given the situation. "I'm sure you did, but Lucius… he'll never really change. He might be okay with the idea of Hermione and Draco now that he's got a little pureblood heir to carry on the lineage, but he obviously didn't feel that way before."

Turning away from Narcissa, I looked at Blaise. I couldn't understand why he cared, why he was so willing to say these things to a woman he'd known his whole life in my defence. Yes, we were very close now, but we hadn't always liked each other. He was speaking to her like I imagined Harry would if given the chance.

"Blaise, you don't know what you're talking about," Narcissa responded. "You haven't had a proper conversation with Lucius since before the war, nevermind since October. If Draco had come to us—"

"He would've told Draco he was already married and to stop carrying on with his Mudblood slag," I interjected. "Or, if he was trying to be a bit nicer, maybe he would've used the word Muggle-born. Do you think Draco and I never discussed this? He _wanted_ to leave Astoria, but as long as Lucius is alive, he'd need to sign off on the divorce because wizarding society is bloody ridiculous."

Narcissa's face showed no discernible emotion. "It is ridiculous, but if Draco had talked to us, I'm sure Lucius would have come around."

"If that's the case, wouldn't he have asked Draco about our relationship before coming to me?" I questioned. "Why would he just do whatever Astoria told him to do? Why would he go looking for a way to hurt me?"

And then a thought struck me — something I hadn't considered before. Before Narcissa could answer me, I asked, "And how did he manage to find my parents? There aren't many people who know that secret."

Her lips parted slightly. "Hermione, I think that's something you should ask Lucius. I'm sure he'd be willing to meet with you somewhere."

The thought of another conversation with Lucius Malfoy made my stomach turn over violently. I felt like I could go my whole life without speaking to him again. "I don't really need to know. I don't think anyone else would be cruel enough to use them against me."

Narcissa looked away, clearly embarrassed by the whole situation.

"So you've checked up on me. I'm alive and well. Was there anything else?" I asked, hoping to bring this awkward interaction to a close. I knew I was being rude, but her attitude about the whole situation was bothering me. In no reasonable universe would I ever willingly speak to Lucius Malfoy, and she should have known that.

Narcissa opened her handbag. "I wanted you to have these back. Lucius was going to get rid of them, but I thought you might want them. They were inside one of the books you gave Draco."

My eyes moved to what was in her hand — a photo strip from a Muggle photo booth in New York City. Draco and I were laughing and smiling and, just like any other couple, we shared a kiss in the last photo. I remembered his response to the instantly developed photos. He'd insisted we do it again so we'd each have a strip. Mine had been tucked away in the trunk with all of the gifts he'd given me, save for the books.

I reached out to accept the photo strip, my fingers trembling. Even though I didn't want to look at the photos, I couldn't bear the thought of them being thrown away or burned by Lucius. She watched me carefully as my eyes roamed the strip, completely lost in the memory and examining Draco's face. When I touched his cheek, I remembered myself — I was sitting with Blaise and Narcissa. I stood and grabbed a book from the shelf, tucking the little memento inside of it. It seemed fitting; there were so many memories shared in this office already and the book I'd chosen was one he'd given me.

I could still feel Narcissa's eyes on me. When I placed the book back on the shelf, I murmured, "Thank you. I'm glad you didn't let him get rid of them. What did he do with the books?"

Blaise snickered, earning himself a glare from both women in the room. Narcissa spoke softly. "Draco wanted to keep the books to read later. He obviously doesn't remember them."

My heart pounded in my chest. "Did you… Did Lucius open the covers? There are inscriptions inside of each one. We usually cast a charm to make them invisible, but I'm not sure when he last looked at them. If he sees what's written in some of them, he may have questions…"

She waved me off. "I'm sure he did. He found the pictures, right?" Pausing, she reached into her handbag again. "I also have another picture of Draco and Scorpius if you'd like to see it. It's from last week."

With a sigh, I nodded. I was weak, but I couldn't resist seeing his face again. When she passed the photo, I took it, gently holding it between my fingers like it might vanish if I held on too hard. Draco looked tired but happy. A smile spread across his face as he lifted Scorpius into the air, making him smile and laugh. I'd never been so grateful for the way wizarding photos captured motion.

My eyes moved back to Narcissa. "I'm glad he's so happy. I always thought he'd be a wonderful father, even if the very idea of it terrified him."

"I'm sure you instilled some confidence in him, Ms. Granger," she commented. "I know you were trying to do the best you could for him."

_Always. I would always do the best I could to make him happy, including staying away from him now._

With a sigh, I handed the photo back to her. "I can't keep this. Thank you for showing me he's doing well, though. How is his brain function?"

“He’s basically back to normal. He gets frustrated that he can’t remember certain things. I think his brain tries to make connections when he sees or hears certain things, but it obviously can’t. Most recently, it happened when he was reading a text on runes.”

_Runes. It made me remember the many nights we’d spent, him writing the symbols on my skin with his fingertips, making me promises that he never kept. Love. Loyalty. Devotion. Protection. Need. New beginnings and family. Promises he’d never kept to me, anyway._

I cleared my throat. “That makes sense, actually. We used to talk about runes a lot, and depending on the book, he likely used it for a lot of research. Is he forming new memories with no problem?”

Narcissa nodded. "No problem at all. It's remarkable, actually. I admit I was quite worried at first."

I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the only permanent damage done was seemingly to my heart and mental state. "That's good. I'm so happy to hear it."

I felt an arm wrap around my waist and startled a bit before looking into my friend's eyes. I had almost forgotten Blaise was even there; he had just been letting me interact with Narcissa freely. Grounded by his presence, I felt strong enough to speak openly to Narcissa. When I faced her again, I said, "I'm really trying to move on with my life. I'm seeing a healer and repairing the friendships I let go while I was involved with Draco. I appreciate you coming by, but I really can't keep being dragged towards the past. I'll never heal, Narcissa. Please, just take care of Draco."

She stood from the chair she'd settled into in front of my desk. "Of course I will. I didn't mean to cause you pain, Hermione. We just… We know we've made so many mistakes over the years, especially in regards to Draco. He's been pressured into things he didn't want time and time again. I hate that Lucius's decision is causing you so much pain and I know Draco is hurting, too. Even if he doesn't realize what it is, he knows something is missing."

Blaise squeezed me tighter and I noticed her eyes move to his hand on my waist. Knowing the wheels in her head were spinning, likely assuming I'd started a relationship with Draco's best friend, I stayed quiet. Maybe if she thought I'd moved on with Blaise, she'd stay away.

"Goodnight, then," Narcissa said, turning and letting herself out of my office, closing the door behind her.

Once she was gone, Blaise wrapped me fully in his arms, tucking my head under his chin. "Tesoro, you're okay. I don't know why she felt the need to come here, but I won't let her in again. The Malfoys never seem to quit while they're ahead."

"I know she meant well," I replied, my words muffled against his chest. "I just can't, Blaise. I just fucking can't keep imagining the what-ifs and the lost possibilities."

His hand stroked over my hair, likely making an even bigger mess of it. "I know. You've been doing so well, though. Don't give up."

_I won't. I can't. I need to be here in the present for James and Severus and Harry and Blaise. Even Pansy. I need to stay on track. I will stay on track. I'll come to work, go back to Grimmauld Place and I'll dote on my godchildren. Maybe I'll move back home by the end of summer._

_I can do this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your emotions and theories bring me so much joy. Thank you for sharing them with me. 
> 
> Next week, we're going to see a lot of our characters in the same room... so that should be fun. *wink*


	10. Lucius - June 2006

It was Draco's twenty-sixth birthday, and I was pacing the Manor library. Narcissa had told me about her visit to Hermione Granger's office, told me the girl was doing well and trying to move on with her life, likely with Blaise Zabini and, for some reason, it made me frantic. While I knew she deserved the opportunity to find her own happiness, I felt like I was watching my son's heart get stomped all over by his best friend. Immediately after she'd told me about Blaise's behavior, I sent the young man an owl inviting him to dinner for Draco's birthday. It wasn't an unusual request; he had been a friend of Draco's since first year.

However, I needed to talk to him before Draco and Astoria arrived at the Manor. When my office Floo roared to life, he stepped out, impeccably dressed in fine robes. I looked at him, my nose in the air just like it had been when I was younger. "Blaise," I greeted, extending my hand to shake his.

"Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for inviting me into your home," he responded, the very picture of politeness.

I gestured to the small sitting area in my office. I had a decanter filled with elf-made wine breathing on the table, and he raised an eyebrow. "I was hoping we could talk before my son arrives."

He nodded, reaching for the decanter and pouring wine into two glasses.

"I wanted to thank you for keeping me up to date on how Ms. Granger is doing. Your letters have been quite… informative," I said, my tone implying there was more to come.

"But?" he asked, catching my cue.

Scrutinizing his face and posture, I tried to display an air of indifference when I asked, "You're with her now?"

The smirk he'd been wearing widened. "No, Mr. Malfoy. I'm not with Hermione. I don't know why you'd even think that, let alone ask me about it."

"Narcissa told me the two of you were quite friendly when she saw you," I stated.

Blaise shook his head. "She misunderstood the situation and we didn't bother to correct her. Hermione wants to move on, so she was more than willing to let Narcissa believe there was more going on than there actually was."

"I see. Though, if you're not in any sort of relationship with her, maybe you're not the best source…"

"I don't have to be her boyfriend to know what's going on in her life, Lucius." He paused, waiting for me to say something. I remained silent, knowing his temper was close to the surface. "She's not seeing anyone. I'm the closest person to her, though she's still staying with Harry and Pansy."

A sigh of relief escaped me. "Thank Merlin. I thought you were in a relationship with her and I was going to have to find a way to hex you discreetly."

I could tell I was confusing him; why would I, Lucius Malfoy, hex anyone over a Mudblood?

Even if that was technically true, I didn't consider Ms. Granger a common Mudblood anymore. I knew my son, and he would've found a way to divorce Astoria and take her as a wife if I hadn't stepped in. Much to my shock, the idea of her no longer made me ill in the same way it used to. Now, I mainly felt sick thinking about what I'd done to both her and Draco.

I knew my words were falling flat and sounded forced. I'm sure Blaise, a fellow Slytherin, would see right through my facade.

"So, that was why you summoned me? To find out if I was fucking Hermione?" he asked, bold as brass.

_Hadn't the younger generation learned any subtlety?_

I scoffed, unsure of what else I could do to convey my disbelief. "Of course not. That would be the height of rudeness."

"Since when do you care about being rude?" Blaise paused, waiting for me to answer. When I didn't, he continued, "You know, Narcissa told us that you care about Hermione in a roundabout way. Is that true, Lucius?"

I started clenching and unclenching my fists. It wasn't like my wife to be so indiscreet about things of this nature. "I feel for her. She was incredibly… distraught when she left the Manor, and she didn't look much better when I stopped her in Flourish and Blotts. I was concerned."

Blaise glared at me. "You really are a piece of work. Do you know how insane you sound? You're the one that made her Obliviate Draco and cut herself out of his life!"

"I don't want you near her, Blaise," I growled, starting to pace. "I know my son loved her. I know he did. And I ruined that. I should've let him keep her."

"Hermione Granger is not a possession to be kept, lost, or given away," Blaise replied. "She's a treasure, my Tesoro, but she's not ready for any of the shite that goes along with relationships. She's still a bit fucked up from what happened with Draco."

I grimaced. I'd been keeping tabs on her, and I knew she'd been in therapy three times a week. Both Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley had met her there on occasion. There had been tension within the Golden Trio for years — it had been evident to everyone after their romantic relationships dissolved — and I assumed they were finally trying to fix the damage.

"I know she's been having issues. I'm not as heartless as most presume," I said. "And my conscience seems to only be growing the older I get. I know what I did, and I've regretted it ever since I overheard Draco talking to Harry Potter."

"When did Draco talk to Potter?" Blaise asked, and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Ah, nevermind. I remember. They saw each other at the hospital when the babies were born."

Nodding, I made my way back to the window. "I'm confused," I admitted. "I never expected to feel this way after the fact. I thought I was doing the right thing for Draco, but—"

"And that just proves how little you actually know about your son," he snapped back. "Your wife knew how he felt about her. She even told you how he felt, and you ignored that. And you want to know the really fucked up part?" He paused for dramatic effect. "Draco still wouldn't even ask her out because he thought he'd never have a chance with her because of the war and because of you. And then he got his chance — with the worst timing known to man — and gave her up to make you and Astoria happy."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not having the slightest idea what he meant.

Blaise sighed. "Draco and Hermione had a one-off, or what was supposed to be a one-off, the night before his wedding. When I went to get him the next morning to bring him here, she was asleep in his bed and he was having a nervous breakdown because he didn't want to disappoint anyone."

My stomach dropped to the floor. "It started before he married Astoria?"

With an exaggerated eye-roll, he replied, "Yes. Before."

"And when did they start things up again?"

"On his birthday, two years ago."

Her words from Flourish and Blotts played over in my head. _You're not exactly wrong, but you're not exactly right, either._

I met Blaise's eyes. "I obviously had no idea, but I can't say I would've encouraged him to cancel the wedding on that very day."

"He knew it would've been a terrible thing to do to Astoria, and a scandal—"

At that moment, Draco's wife walked into the library, stopping Blaise dead in his tracks. She put her hands on her hips. "Don't you think you should at least greet the guest of honour?" When she looked to Blaise, she scoffed. "And you — what are you even doing here? You haven't been to see Draco since the accident!"

"Save it, Stori. I know the truth of what happened, obviously," he replied, shocking her silent.

She looked to me for guidance and I shrugged. "He's close with Ms. Granger. We've been discussing how she's faring since—"

"And what does that matter?" she bit out. "Her name shouldn't even be uttered in Draco's presence! He doesn't need to think of her! You know what will happen, Lucius!"

Sighing, I said, "Well, let's all head downstairs. I don't think any of us will bring her up in conversation, Astoria. It's to all of our benefit that Draco never finds out what happened."

* * *

When we arrived in the dining room, Draco and Narcissa were already seated, Scorpius on his father's lap. As usual, the youngest Malfoy was the center of attention. No one looked our way when we walked in.

"Happy Birthday, Draco," I said, my voice as cool and collected as ever.

He looked up, his eyes darting from me to Blaise in surprise. "Thank you, Father," he said. "Blaise. It's nice to see you. I wasn't sure you'd ever be around again."

Blaise looked like he didn't know what to say. "Well, you know I'm rubbish at emotional shite. I don't know how to act around someone who doesn't have a clue what's happened in the past few years."

At that, Draco passed Scorpius to Narcissa, rose, and walked over to his old friend and hugged him. I could see the discomfort on Blaise's face, and I realised that he genuinely disliked my son. I didn't know if he was angry about the way Draco had carried on with the Granger girl or if it was simply envy, but it was as plain as day to me.

"I've missed you, Blaise. I haven't felt like me since I woke up," Draco said, being far more honest than I ever would've dreamed possible. "I'm assuming you're still working in the DMLE?"

Blaise nodded. "Yeah. Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

Slinging an arm around his friend's shoulders, Draco led Blaise to the small bar in the corner of the room. "I can remember some things about it. Tell me what I've been missing."

Astoria was watching them carefully, her blue eyes narrowed and glaring at Blaise. She moved to stand beside me. "I swear to Merlin, Lucius, if Blaise ruins everything—"

"He won't. He doesn't want Draco to remember any more than you do."

Just as she was about to ask why, I heard the Floo in the travelling room activate. I raised an eyebrow at Narcissa, unsure of who else was attending. I'd wanted to reintroduce people Draco knew slowly, not all at once, but I had let Narcissa choose who to invite. She looked at me nervously, and as soon as our new guests walked into the room, I understood why.

"Happy Birthday, Draco!" Pansy said, quickly moving towards Draco and Blaise and hugging them both. "It's so nice that we can all be together again."

Harry Potter was standing in the doorway, not sure of what to make of the assembled guests. Narcissa handed Scorpius to me and walked over to welcome him. "Mr. Potter, thank you for coming. Pansy said she wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it."

Opening her arms to the man she'd saved eight years ago, she smiled warmly. Astoria, however, looked like she was living in her worst nightmare. She was surrounded by Hermione Granger's friends in the Manor, and she was terrified at the prospect.

I observed everyone in the room, acutely aware that we all knew Draco's accident had been fabricated, and let out a sigh. Scorpius grabbed a fistful of my hair and redirected my attention, reminding me why we'd done what we'd done. When I looked at his little face, I felt marginally better, but my guilt never truly left me.

It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

About halfway through dinner, I was nearly ready to _Avada_ Astoria. I'd been watching her most of the night, and she was hanging all over Draco like a brainless twit. He simply looked uncomfortable, likely because she never behaved this way. Every time someone else spoke, she'd found a way to interrupt or interject before the conversation could move along. It was absolutely obnoxious and infuriating, and I could see looks passing between nearly everyone else at the table.

Most notably, however, Pansy had remained silent, not contributing to the conversation unless someone asked her a direct question. This was so out of character for her that I was growing concerned.

While I was lost in my own thoughts, the conversation had turned to Scorpius and Severus. Draco was talking about Scorpius' first bit of magic — something that had just occurred today — and Potter started describing his eldest son's recent accidental magic outbursts.

"—so glad that Sev hasn't displayed anything significant yet. I can't imagine how chaotic it will be to have two magical children in the house. James already summons nearly anything he wants. It's exhausting."

Astoria's voice rang out. "Honestly, I can't wait to have two little ones running around!"

Everyone at the table turned to look at her, including Draco.

"What?" he asked, all the colour draining from his face. "Scorpius isn't even a year old yet and you've never mentioned—"

Cutting him off, she said, "Oh, Draco, of course I want Scorpius to have siblings! I loved having a sister growing up, and you've always said it was lonely being an only child."

I thought back to Draco's early years and snorted a laugh. If he'd had a younger brother or sister, the child would have been traumatized by his fits. I couldn't imagine any universe where Draco would've wanted to share anything, let alone voice that he wanted siblings.

I observed him as he struggled to sift through his memories. It was clear he came up empty. Shrugging, he said, "I liked being the centre of attention."

Potter laughed louder than he had all night. "That is the understatement of the century, Malfoy. I don't think a sibling of yours would've made it to age eleven."

Turning back to Astoria, Draco continued, "And you hated being pregnant. I wouldn't want to make you go through that again, Stori."

Even though Draco grabbed her hand and kissed it, she was pouting now. She emptied her glass of wine quickly and asked the house-elf to refill it. Again, I scanned the other members of this fucking awkward dinner party and noticed Pansy was watching Astoria carefully, scrutinizing every facial expression and behaviour. It was obvious to me that Pansy was trying to get to the bottom of something, and I was curious what it was.

Narcissa caught my eye and gave me a look that said _what the fuck is everyone at this table up to_?

I gently shook my head in answer. We'd be talking this over tonight once everyone else had taken their leave.

"So, Potter, how are things in the DMLE?" Draco asked, drawing my attention once more.

Potter looked a tad uncomfortable, but replied, "Just as busy as ever, Malfoy. It seems the darkness never really goes away. We're just keeping it at bay, really."

Blaise chimed in. "It does feel like that sometimes — we're certainly in no danger of being made redundant."

Frowning, Draco asked, "Do you still find yourselves travelling often?"

It was an odd question and I wondered why he was asking it. When I looked to Astoria, I could see a pink tinge on her cheeks and a sour expression on her face.

Blaise and Potter exchanged a glance, a silent realisation passing between them.

"Um, not really," Potter answered. "Not for long periods of time, anyway."

Draco nodded thoughtfully. "Astoria mentioned that I was always away, travelling for work. I wasn't sure if that was still common."

As I watched my son, I saw determination wash over him. It was the same look he'd had when he first told me he was becoming an Auror and I immediately knew that he wanted to go back to work. If I really thought about it, I knew the change would be good for him; he hated having nothing to fill his time, and he'd never come to work with me.

But, if he returned to the DMLE, he'd be around Hermione Granger every day again, and that terrified me.

"It's not common," Blaise began, the wheels visibly spinning in his head, "but we still do it. I think I was abroad three or four days last month. I'm sure it's hard on the Aurors' families."

_Ah, he doesn't want Draco to come back, either. He likely wants to keep him away from Hermione._

"That's not as bad as I thought, actually," Draco replied. "Astoria told me I was gone nearly every week."

I saw a smirk cross Pansy's face as she took a sip of wine, but no one corrected Draco, and Astoria quickly took control of the conversation.

"Well, that would still be a lot with a new baby. Surely you don't want to miss out on all Scorpius' firsts because you're away for work."

My son looked at his wife, annoyance clearly written across his features. "I never said I was going back, Astoria. There aren't exactly a lot of choices of comfortable conversation topics to bring up in this group."

_Oh, if you only knew, Draco…_

Pansy made direct eye contact with Astoria. "I suppose we could all talk about how we bullied Harry and wanted him dead, but that might get a bit awkward."

"Well, it's not as if Aurors and Dark Arts are suitable topics amongst this group, either!" Astoria retorted.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up. "Enough squabbling! You're in your mid-twenties, not your teens. There is an extraordinary amount of bad history in this room, but we've all moved on from it. Let's move on to something else."

A moment later, Narcissa took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Smiling at Pansy, she asked, "And where are your boys tonight? You could've brought them along, darling."

When a venomous smile crossed Pansy's face, I knew Narcissa had asked the question she'd been waiting for. "They're with their Aunt Hermione. She's been spending a lot of time with them lately. I swear, she's going to be the best mum someday."

Again, I scanned the expressions of everyone at the table. Blaise was glaring, Narcissa had gone as white as a sheet, Astoria's cheeks were flushed with anger, and Potter was shaking his head. Pansy, however, looked like the cat that got the cream. We'd not even made it through the main course yet, and things were quickly moving towards disaster. I was sure that Draco wouldn't be able to resist asking questions now that she'd been brought up. I schooled my expression and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Oh, that's wonderful. She's doing better then, Potter?" Draco asked, and the room seemed to hold its breath.

Potter's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean by better?"

"When I saw you at the hospital, you told me she wasn't able to handle children."

"Right," he replied. "She's doing much better now, actually. She's almost back to her old self."

Draco nodded and I thought the conversation from hell was over. However, he must have been contemplating asking his next question. "And what happened to her that she was different? I don't think you ever said."

Pushing back from the table, Astoria rose and headed for the door. "Excuse me for a moment."

_Subtle. So fucking subtle, Astoria._

Blaise quickly chimed in. "Bad breakup with a real wanker. He never appreciated what he had."

"Who was she seeing?" Draco asked.

"Oh, I saw in the paper that she'd been with someone foreign. From France, right, Harry?" my wife's voice cut through the heavy silence.

_Thank Merlin for Narcissa's quick thinking._

Potter jumped at the chance to confirm this and keep the secret hidden. "Yes. France."

With a downcast gaze, Draco said, "That's really too bad. That man was obviously an idiot. Granger is… brilliant." His words halted for a moment and then he looked up, a smirk on his face, and I saw a glimpse of how he used to be — before the war, before the arranged marriage, before the Obliviation. "You're right, Pans. She'll be a great mum one day, I'm sure. She managed to keep Potter and Weasley alive for years, after all. A baby will be almost no work at all."

At this, peals of laughter rang out around the room. Even Potter was laughing, though I suspected it was partially stress-induced. This topic had been the thestral in the room all night, and we'd managed to talk about it without giving anything away. I wanted to let out a relieved sigh, thinking we'd made it through the woods, but then Blaise spoke again.

"She just needs the right man in her life and then I'm sure she'll settle down. There are plenty of men who would be willing to commit to her and give her everything she deserves."

These interactions were painful to watch, and I wanted to kill Pansy for bringing Hermione Granger up at all. What in the name of Salazar had she been thinking? Why did she want to stir things up and upset the fragile peace we'd managed to achieve?

Draco was obviously confused, his brain likely trying to picture Granger and finding blank spaces where she should be. I wondered what he had left of her — could he see her in the DMLE? At Ministry functions? Anywhere?

"I'm sure you're right, Blaise. I can't imagine it'll be hard for her to find someone new," Draco answered respectfully.

A heavy silence settled over the room; no one wanted to continue this particular conversation.

When Astoria came back into the room, an icy mask was fixed on her face. She sat down beside Draco again and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "So, what did I miss?"

Pansy snorted a laugh and took another long sip of wine, making me wonder just how drunk she was.

"Oh, we just finished up our conversation about Ms. Granger. I'm sure you wouldn't have had much to contribute to it since you didn't know her all that well," Narcissa said.

Smiling sweetly, Astoria replied, "Yes, I really have nothing to say about her. Let's move on."

Again, Blaise looked angry, Draco looked confused, and Astoria looked smug.

Narcissa, being the gracious hostess, moved the conversation along. "So… does anyone have travel plans for the summer?"

I prayed to Merlin that we'd make it through the rest of the night without more awkward conversations.

* * *

Thankfully, the rest of dinner and dessert had been relatively pleasant. Astoria and Narcissa had skillfully steered the conversation, keeping the dangerous subjects out of the forefront. We'd moved to one of the sitting rooms and Scorpius was being passed around. His baby laughs filled the Manor, and even Blaise was smiling.

"He's a cute kid, Draco. I'll give you that," Pansy said.

Draco smiled. "I know. I mean, he is mine, and I was a cute kid."

Chuckling, I replied, "Oh, he may look like you, but he's got a much better temperament."

And it was the truth — Scorpius was generally a very happy baby and Draco had been colicky and fussy.

When everyone was getting ready to leave, Pansy said, "Astoria, can I speak to you? I'd like to arrange a playdate for Sev and Scorpius for when they're a bit older."

Astoria nodded, following Pansy into the corridor. I discreetly cast an eavesdropping charm on Astoria, needing to know what Pansy had actually wanted to say.

_"You're a manipulative cunt, Astoria. I can't even believe you're related to Daphne."_

_"Who are you to judge me, Pansy? I'm making this work! It's a second chance, and I love him."_

_"Yeah, well, he still doesn't love you, and another baby isn't going to change that."_ I waited for Astoria to respond, but she remained quiet. Pansy's voice came through again. _"See, deep down, you know I'm right! But you're just going to keep spreading your legs and hoping that you manage to keep him this time."_

_"I will keep him! He does love me. Things are different now!"_

_"Keep telling yourself that. Sex isn't love, Astoria, and I know you saw the look on his face when I said her name. Even if he doesn't know about their relationship, he still feels something for her."_

After that, I'd heard enough to know I needed to break up their conversation. It was heading into dangerous territory, and I didn't want Draco to overhear anything. When I walked out into the hallway, I could hear hissed whispering and quickly made my way towards them.

"Stop! Right now! Astoria, go back in there and pack up your child while I have a word with Mrs. Potter." With a huff, she stomped back into the sitting room. I focused my attention on Pansy. "What were you thinking?"

"She's a smug little bitch, and I don't like it. Hermione has been living with us for two months, and she's been a fucking mess until recently," she said in a hushed tone. "And Lucius, I really fucking hate you for forcing this life on all of them."

I met her angry gaze. "I'm not exactly pleased with the way things have turned out. Between the DMLE and the feelings he still carries for Hermione, Draco is longing for his old life, and he doesn't even know the half of it. It's not been pleasant for me to watch."

"Good. I hope you suffer just as much as Draco and Hermione are," she spat before storming back into the room.

_Oh, I am. I will be for the rest of my life._

As soon as everyone had gone, I turned to Narcissa. "What in the hell were you thinking? Inviting the Potters? Really?"

"Their sons will go to school with Scorpius and, whether we like it or not, Draco is going to find a way to go back to work. I want to maintain close ties with both Harry and Blaise. Who do you think we'll be relying on to keep them apart?"

I sank down into an armchair and summoned a tumbler and bottle of firewhisky. "Narcissa, we can't let him go back there if she's still working in that office. It's begging for a disastrous outcome."

"And how do you propose we stop him, Lucius? Hire another Obliviator? Erase that part of his life entirely?" she replied, her voice angrier than I'd ever heard it.

Rather than answering her, I sipped my firewhisky and got lost in my thoughts. What had I learned today?

_Blaise Zabini wanted Hermione Granger for himself._

_Draco still had some sort of infatuation with her._

_Astoria wanted to get pregnant again, and I was sure it had more to do with holding on to Draco rather than a desire for another child._

_Hermione was still staying with the Potters, unable to live on her own._

_Pansy was torn between her lifelong friendship with Draco and her newfound one with Hermione._

Narcissa finally spoke again. "I want Draco to be happy, and he's not happy right now. He might be content, but that's about as far as it goes. He needs something else in his life, Lucius, whether that's work or friends. Pansy and Blaise have been his closest friends since Hogwarts."

"But they're too close to Ms. Granger," I replied, referring to her formally rather than casually like I did in my head now. "We're asking for trouble if we let him re-establish those bonds."

Sighing, she said, "I know that. Really, I do, but I don't see another way. He needs some ties to his old life. Right now, he only has us."

"And Astoria and Scorpius," I added. "Scorpius makes him happy."

We both smiled at the thought of our grandson, and she warmed to me again, moving across the room and sitting in my lap. I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her small frame close to my body. Her lips moved to my ear and she began to whisper. "Lucius, think about us. Think about how we were at Draco's age. We were sickeningly in love—"

"Aren't we still?" I interrupted, making her laugh.

"Of course we are," she answered, sucking my earlobe into her mouth for just a second. "But think of how he and Astoria are. Things between them appear to be a bit better since they moved back to their house, but it's not real between them."

Deep down, I knew she was right. Draco still looked uncomfortable whenever Astoria touched him. It wasn't effortless for either of them; they had to think about every hug and kiss before attempting it. Even tonight, Astoria was simply putting on a show for the Potters and Blaise, knowing their behaviour would likely be relayed to Hermione.

And then I thought about the pictures my investigator had taken of Draco and Hermione. They were always smiling, always touching — even when they really shouldn't have been. I was sure he'd spent most nights in her bed until he found out about the pregnancy. Again, I felt a fresh wave of guilt crash over me as I compared Draco's affair with Hermione Granger to my relationship with Narcissa. Their love had been real — like ours was — and I'd put a stop to it.

Sensing my distress, Narcissa wrapped her arms around me, pulling me closer. My lips found her neck, and I breathed in the scent of her perfume. It always helped to calm my racing mind. "Do you think it will ever turn into something real?" I asked.

As she held me close, she said, "I don't think it can, Lucius. This kind of love is rare, and I'd say most people are lucky to find it once in a lifetime, nevermind twice."

Again, I thought, _what have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I can't wait to hear your thoughts and theories!


	11. Hermione - September 2006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two divided camps reading this fic... Team Blaise and Team Anyone-But-Blaise.
> 
> Well, let's find out where Mr. Zabini stands on the matter!
> 
> The time jump here is a bit larger than I've shown for Hermione - about 4 months.

I ended up staying with Pansy and Harry until the end of July. After that, I started to feel like a burden, especially since I was functioning much better. They tried to assure me that it was no problem, but I had to learn to live on my own eventually. When I moved back into my house, Pansy helped me redecorate a bit and move things around so it didn't feel like quite the same place. I was grateful for that — it made the transition easier.

Quite a few significant dates passed — the second of May, Draco's birthday, James' second birthday, Harry's birthday — and now my birthday was quickly approaching. Harry and Ron had planned a party for me and I was equally dreading and excited about whatever they'd come up with. Pansy had told me to 'dress like a fucking woman' and meet them all at Grimmauld Place. I went shopping and bought a new navy blue dress, one that was what I'd call 'demurely sexy'. I was secretly hoping twenty-seven would be much, much better than twenty-six had been.

I thought back to my birthday last year, how I'd spent it wrapped up with Draco in the hotel in New York City. It was our last trip and, though he hadn't known it at the time, I was trying to squeeze in as many happy memories as possible. The plan had already been in motion, and I knew I'd be losing him soon. In a way, I was thankful that most of our big events were spent away from Britain. I didn't have to avoid any nearby places. Paris, Sorrento, New York City, Mykonos… those places were the scenes for some of our happiest memories.

Not letting myself dwell on it, I got ready to meet Harry, Pansy, Ron, Luna, and whoever else they'd invited for my birthday soiree. I had a sneaking suspicion they were going to try to set me up with someone tonight, even if it was just by introducing us and trying to be sly about it. Rolling my eyes at the thought, I grabbed my handbag and headed for the Floo. When I stepped out in Grimmauld Place, Blaise hugged me tightly.

"Buon compleanno, Tesoro!"

I kissed his cheek and replied, "Grazie!"

He held onto me for a little bit longer than normal, rubbing a hand up and down my spine. I looked at him questioningly, and he just flashed me a brilliant smile. Pansy strutted into the room, wearing heels that made her taller than Harry. It made me laugh since I knew he hated when she wore them.

"Happy birthday, Granger," she sang, and I wondered how much she'd had to drink already. "Let's go get you drunk and find someone for you to take home for the night!"

Blaise glared at her and I laughed. "Don't you remember? I'm not combining alcohol and sex, Pans."

"Well, you should. I know that I most certainly will be! It's my first night out since Sev was born." She did a little shimmy to emphasize.

Harry entered the room next, Ron and Luna not far behind him, and shook his head at his wife. Making his way over to me, he hugged me tightly. "Happy birthday, Hermione. Sorry, Pansy couldn't wait for you to get here to start the fun. I think she's a bit excited to have a night away from being a mummy."

"Potter, I love having your wonderful babies, but I'm still me and would like to have a good time! I'm sure you won't be complaining later," she responded.

Harry passed me off to Ron, and then Luna, and then Pansy announced, "We're going to the new club in Diagon Alley! Theo just opened it a few weeks ago and he offered us a VIP table for tonight!"

Giving me an apologetic smile, Harry gestured to the Floo. "We're going to dinner at the French restaurant you love first, Hermione. Lead the way."

I figured Harry would send all of us through first so he could scold Pansy for her behavior. Blaise stepped out behind me and looped his arm around my waist. "You look wonderful tonight. I'm glad you've maintained your weight since you moved home."

"Well, I do have quite a few people checking up on me regularly now, Blaise," I pointed out. "And I want to be better. I think I'm almost really there."

He laughed. "Then why did you go as white as a sheet when Pansy suggested finding a man?"

Rather than snapping at him immediately, I decided to think about it. Should I be open to looking for something new? Penelope and I had talked about dating in the abstract, but I'd never worked up the guts to try. It had been almost a year, and Pansy had said something like _just for the night_ , but I wasn't sure I wanted to go that route.

Ron and Luna came through into The Leaky Cauldron, interrupting my thoughts. Ron looked at Blaise's arm around my waist and his brow furrowed a bit. I knew he didn't really understand our relationship, but I wasn't going to try to explain it again.

In one of our group therapy sessions, Ron had adamantly stated that I needed someone who would calm me down and wanted to live a happy life. Privately, the phrase _'no snakes like Malfoy'_ had been uttered more times than I could count, but I didn't think I saw Blaise in that light. We were comfortable, close friends. I wouldn't discount a quarter of men in the wizarding world based on where the Sorting Hat put them at age eleven. Besides, the best relationship I'd ever had — even if it had been unconventional and morally grey — was with Draco. Snakes had a lot of qualities I admired.

Ron looked to Blaise and said, "Is this a thing?"

"For the millionth time, Weasley, we're just friends," Blaise sighed. "We're comfortable sharing affection. You and Potter used to sling your arms around her at school all the time."

"That was different!" Ron protested.

Luna finally chimed in. "Ronald, let it go. I can see the Wrackspurts swarming your head. It was not different. Hermione and Blaise are friends. Their auras don't mesh romantically."

Looking to his wife, Ron's eyes softened. "I'm sorry, love."

"Quite alright. I know you'll always have lingering jealousy issues when it comes to Hermione."

It shocked me that Luna was this secure, this sure in her relationship. I'm sure the fact that I was also friends with her helped a lot, and she knew how spectacularly I had fucked up everything with Ron after the war. It had all worked out, though. Luna's dreamy personality had been the perfect counterweight to Ron's hot temper. A comment from his nearly angelic-looking wife calmed him immediately, which was certainly something I had never accomplished over the years. We could be like fire and petrol.

"Harry's reading Pansy the riot act," Ron commented. "He's telling her she was bang out of line for telling you to get drunk and have a one-off."

"Yeah, it didn't exactly work well for me last time," I said dryly and Blaise laughed, prompting Ron and Luna to join in.

This was what no one understood about Draco and Blaise and most other Slytherins I'd interacted with after the war. They somehow just got me — my dry sense of humor, my ambition, my need to plan and be strategic with things. I'm sure I would've been friends with more of them at school if it hadn't been for the pre-war climate and what they considered my 'unfortunate blood status'.

Finally, Harry and Pansy stepped out of the Floo and we all walked down the street towards the restaurant. Blaise still had his arm wrapped around me, keeping me close. I knew this part of the night was Harry's plan — he knew better than to torture me with a club for too long. However, as we were walking out in the open, a camera flashed, catching us off-guard.

Ron glared at the man holding it. "Really? What's so interesting about us going to dinner, mate? It's been nearly a bloody decade at this point!"

The man just smirked and Disapparated, likely directly to _The Daily Prophet_ office.

"Fucking pests," Pansy hissed. "At least we all look good. The photo won't be a horrible one."

When we arrived at the restaurant, we were given a private room for dinner. Neville and Hannah were there, along with Ginny, George, and Angelina. I broke free from Blaise, going to hug the other people who had found the time to celebrate my birthday. Ginny handed me a glass of my favourite red wine when I reached her.

"I'm surprised you're here, Gin! The season isn't quite over yet," I said, taking a sip from the glass.

She shrugged. "It's one night. Harry sent me the Portkey and told me to take a night off from the glamorous Quidditch lifestyle." Looking over at Harry, she smiled the same sad smile she'd been giving him for years. "His words, not mine."

In an effort to redirect her, I asked, "Where is that hunky—"

Ginny shushed me. Over the past couple of months, she'd started a secret relationship with one of her team's trainers. After being injured, she spent a lot of time in his care, and they'd hit it off. She insisted that it was light and casual still, but it was the longest she'd carried on with anyone since Harry. I was excited for her.

"He couldn't take the night off. Demelza was hurt in yesterday's match, and I wasn't really ready to introduce him to half my bloody family anyway," she explained. "He worked with Demelza all day so he's having a kip while I'm gone."

I just nodded at her, not wanting to draw any further attention to our conversation since she still hadn't told her family about her new boyfriend. Before I knew it, I was forced into a chair at the head of the table, Blaise to my left and Harry to my right. We all ordered meals and chatted, and I suddenly realized I hadn't done anything like this in two years. I'd skipped out on so many group functions to spend birthdays and holidays with Draco since we couldn't go out together publicly.

Catching up with George, I listened closely as he told me all about the latest products he'd come up with for the store. Ron never liked to talk about the business, so I really wasn't up to date on their latest offerings. Everyone laughed at the newest items that would be terrorizing the halls of Hogwarts this year, most notably a prank necktie available in all house colors that caused the wearer to levitate at random intervals.

"I've been waiting on an owl from McGonagall scolding me," George laughed. "It seems it hasn't really happened in her class yet. I'm sure it will soon. Term's only just begun!"

"Has she owled you before?" I asked, intrigued.

George nodded and grinned. "Every year about one thing or another! She keeps a full stock of antidotes to the Skiving Snackboxes now. She bought one and had old Slughorn analyze them! I thought Fred and I had made that impossible, but I guess Sluggy has more skill than I realised."

Laughing at the mental image of the Potions master working tirelessly to figure out the antidote to prank products, I noticed Blaise watching me closely. His eyes were dancing over me, his lips forming a small smile. It was almost like he was in a trance. I met his gaze and said, "What's going on? Are you drunk already?"

"No, Tesoro," he answered. "I just haven't seen you laugh like that in a long time. It's nice."

I felt myself blush and I tried to shift my focus to someone else. Literally anyone else. Blaise had been looking at me like… well, like he was in love with me.

Ginny regaled everyone with Quidditch tales as we ate. Pansy and I exchanged eye-rolls; we were the only ones at the table who had not been obsessed with the sport at Hogwarts. Both Neville and Hannah had wanted to play, but lacked the skills on a broomstick.

Pansy gulped down a ton of wine and was getting handsy with Harry. His face was as red as a tomato, but he looked pleased at the attention nonetheless. Enjoying his discomfort, Ginny glanced at me and smirked. Luna chose that moment to stand from the table, coming to lean down and whisper, "I bet she'll be pregnant again after tonight."

I nearly spat my wine out and Blaise rubbed my back. Once I'd managed to swallow most of it down, I laughed harder than I had in a long time. I knew it wasn't particularly funny, but something about this night was really making me happy. I'm sure the wine didn't hurt, either.

"I'm going to the loo," Luna announced, and I got up to follow her.

"Me too," I responded, wanting to clean up some of the wine that had made its way to my dress.

Pansy stood up, wobbling on her ridiculous heels. "Me three!" she exclaimed. I wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her and she draped hers over my shoulders. "Granger, it should be your birthday every weekend. I'm already having so much fun."

"I can see that, Pans. I've never seen Harry so uncomfortable."

As we walked into the bathroom, she snickered. "He's such a prude in front of people! But as soon as we're home, he'll be tearing my knickers off and—"

"Nope! I don't want to know anything about that aspect of your relationship!" I interrupted, stopping her before she could scar me for life.

Pansy pouted at me. "But why? I'd love to hear about Blaise once you finally let him fuck you. I never got around to him at Hogwarts since I wasted so much time on Draco."

I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with both her proclamation about Blaise and I eventually having sex, and her mention of Draco.

Luna looked to her. "Pansy, Hermione and Blaise are just friends. She's not interested in him. I'll tell you what I told Ronald earlier — their auras don't mesh romantically. They look just the same as Hermione and Harry's."

I silently thanked Luna, praying Pansy would drop it at the mention of the auras. She tolerated Divination and talk of auras almost as well as I did.

However, I was not so lucky.

"That's bullshit," she answered. "Have you seen the way Blaise looks at her? Especially tonight? It's like she's a goblet of Gillywater during a drought!"

_Yes, Pansy, I'm starting to notice that, but that doesn't mean it would work out._

The drunk witch continued her ramble. "And he's a good man. He's been there for her through everything. I'm sure he's going to dance with her tonight and try to warm her up to the idea—"

"Pansy, you can't let him do that," I interrupted her, panicking. "I can't — I won't — start something with Blaise. We're friends, and we work together, and that's it. He's Draco's best friend and—"

"And Draco won't know the fucking difference. He doesn't remember your relationship," she responded. "For fuck's sake, you have to move on eventually. Blaise is like Draco, but with no pesky wife, and he loves you, Granger. Why _not_ Blaise?"

_Because I can't. I can't go there with a close friend again. There are too many memories, too much to lose. I just… can't._

Luna glared at Pansy. "Stop. You're freaking her out. She already nearly ruined one friendship by getting into a relationship when she wasn't sure!"

Pansy scoffed. "Blaise isn't Weasley. He's an Italian hunk and I've heard his equipment is—"

Luna held her hand up, her light blue eyes casting curses at Pansy. "Don't. Don't say anything about Ron or Blaise or what Hermione should do. She gets to decide when she's ready, and she gets to decide who she wants to take a chance on. You're drunk and babbling on about things you have no business talking about, Pansy."

Pansy turned to face me, trying to figure out if I agreed with Luna. "Pans, I appreciate your advice, and I know I need to move on, but I'm not sure if Blaise is a good idea for me. I mean, Luna's right — I did nearly wreck my friendship with Ron. I don't want that to happen with Blaise. He's… special to me. He's the only one who knows everything, and he's never judged me. He's just… been there."

"My point exactly," Pansy stated. "But I won't push. Just don't be surprised when he tries to make a move, Granger. I think he's just waiting until he thinks you're truly better."

My stomach turned with nerves and I decided to take cover in the cubicle. Thanks to Pansy, I was anxious about the rest of the night. I couldn't refuse to dance with Blaise unless I refused to dance with everyone. But we were going to a nightclub; the dancing would be grinding and sexual, and if what Pansy said was true, it would be like foreplay to him. I groaned and heard Pansy start laughing.

"Now you're thinking about him. Is he naked in your mind?" she taunted.

_He hadn't been, but he was now… and it didn't make me feel sick like the idea of Harry naked did._

Finishing up, I exited the stall and glared at her.

"He totally was! I can see it on your face!"

"What happened to not pushing?" I snapped. "I'm not ready for something serious and, should I ever decide I want to go there with Blaise, it would have to be serious. I would have to be sure."

Pansy nodded. "You would."

"So that's not tonight," I stated.

Pansy nodded in agreement. "Definitely not tonight if you're in this much of a snit about it."

* * *

After dinner, Hannah and Neville bade us goodnight, each giving me a tight hug.

Hannah leaned in and whispered, "I'm so glad that things are going better for you, Hermione. I was worried after last year."

"Thank you," I replied. "And thank you for… everything last year."

She nodded, not wanting to draw any further attention to us. As we exited the restaurant, Hannah and Neville headed in the opposite direction and we made our way to the nightclub.

Theodore Nott greeted us at the door. He gave me a warm smile and conjured a tiara before leaning forward to place it on top of my head. "Happy Birthday to the Gryffindor Princess!" he exclaimed. "I'm so glad you're all here to celebrate! I'll lead you to your private area."

Theo placed a hand on the small of my back and led us through the club. I noticed I had been right about the dancing — even though it was fairly early, there were couples essentially dry humping on the dance floor. Pansy squealed with excitement as she walked around, taking in her surroundings.

"Theo, it's so wonderful! It looks like the perfect place to meet someone to take home for the night!"

I looked over my shoulder and she wiggled her eyebrows. Blaise glared at her and said, "Stop trying to get Hermione to take someone home, Pans. She's not like the pre-Potter version of you."

I sucked in a breath, knowing Pansy likely wouldn't let that one fly. "Don't be jealous, Blaise. You and Granger are _just friends_ , right? That's what you always say."

Blaise didn't answer and I didn't look back at him, not wanting to see the expression on his face. I felt Theo's thumb move, stroking against my back. "So, is that true? You're looking to meet someone?" he asked. "I can tell you who to stay away from."

"I am resolutely _not_ looking to meet anyone. Pansy just thinks I should have a one-off for my birthday."

Theo smirked. "Well, you will have plenty of opportunities for that here, Granger. I'm sure there are plenty of men who'd love to get into those golden knickers of yours."

"Don't be a swine, Theo," Blaise growled. "She just said she's not interested in meeting anyone. I'm sure that includes going home with you."

Theo whispered in my ear. "He's grumpy tonight."

I laughed and leaned in to respond. "Blaise thinks I make bad decisions when I mix men and alcohol. He's not wrong. He's trying to protect me from the horrible men who would take advantage of me."

_Oh my Gods, am I flirting? That sounded like flirting. When was the last time…_

"Put me on the list of horrible men, then. I would love to take advantage of you whenever you'd like," Theo purred.

I grinned at him. "I'll keep that in mind."

As soon as Theo walked away, Pansy was at my side. "What was _that_?" she demanded. "You just… you talked to Theo, and you were almost batting your eyelashes at him!"

I shrugged. "You told me to try. I'm trying. I have to learn how to chat with men again, right?"

Blaise moved closer to us, clearly trying to listen in. The music was starting to get louder, and I knew he wouldn't be able to hear anything, but I still put a stop to the conversation. Deep down, I knew I'd been flirting with Theo to see how Blaise reacted, but was that fair? Even though I didn't feel ready for anything with Blaise, and I wasn't sure if I ever would, I had no right to try and manipulate his feelings that way.

I'd messed with enough feelings and relationships in the past year.

As I looked around, I begrudgingly admitted that this particular club was nice. There were small sofas arranged in a circle around a table in our private area, and George and Angelina were already sitting and observing what was going on around them. I gestured to the couches. Seemingly forgetting all of her pureblood etiquette, Pansy plopped down onto one. Harry slid in next to her and she leaned against him, kissing his cheek. Ginny was standing at the bar, chatting with the bartender. Seeing that Ron and Luna were already dancing, I sat down, crossing my legs at the knee. Blaise lowered himself into the seat beside me, careful to avoid touching me.

Things felt tense, so I decided I needed a drink. As I was about to stand up, a waitress came over with a bottle of champagne, setting it down in front of me and conjuring several flutes. She poured the golden bubbly into the glasses and handed one to me. "A birthday treat, courtesy of Mr. Nott," she said with a wink. "He'll be back to see you later on, once everything in here is settled for the night. You're the only VIPs in today."

"I'm sure he will," Blaise mumbled as he snatched a glass. "Fucking wanker."

I looked over at him and he tried to hide his scowl. Raising my glass, I said, "Thank you all for taking me out this year. I definitely needed it."

"Cheers to you, Hermione! Here's to hoping twenty-seven is a good year for you!" George responded.

I clinked my glass against Blaise's and smiled at him. He reciprocated, but it looked forced. Pansy stood with her own glass, and I was terrified to hear whatever she was going to say.

"To Granger! Time to move on from a shite year and have a whole lot of fun!" she announced.

George and Angelina looked confused, but they didn't question anything.

When Ginny came back, she had a pitcher of some sort, and there was spiraling pink vapor coming off the top of it. I looked at it with fear — it seemed more like a recreational potion than a drink, and I was certainly not to be trusted with something like that. If alcohol impaired my mind enough to make bad decisions with men…

"What's that?" Blaise asked, scooting closer.

Ginny clapped her hands. "It's a special drink. It's supposed to have some inhibition-lowering qualities, and it tastes like raspberry lemonade!"

Sniffing it, I could tell there was something almost Amortentia-like about it, smelling like everything that reminded me of Draco. "Gin, I don't think any of us should drink this. It's clearly got a love or lust potion in it."

"Lighten up, Hermione! The bartender assured me it's perfectly safe and just a bit of fun!" she scolded.

Pansy looked over at me, raising an eyebrow in a dare before darting her eyes towards Blaise. He was watching me, waiting to see what I decided, before partaking in the drink. I knew the likelihood of something happening between us would be exponentially higher if I gave in and drank this. Or I'd do something stupid, like kiss Theo or Ginny, because of it.

"I can't, Gin. I'm sorry. I'm going to stick to the champagne," I finally said, and Harry looked relieved. Much to my shock, Blaise did, too.

With a shrug, she simply replied, "Suit yourself!" before pouring herself a glass and drinking it down. George looked like he might be sick, and I was concerned Ginny was about to sabotage yet another relationship. Pansy also took some, but it only seemed to increase her interest in Harry, her hands starting to wander his body.

"Let's dance!" Ginny shouted over the music, and we all made our way over to where Ron and Luna were.

This definitely wasn't my thing — I didn't understand this kind of dancing at all, but I played along, moving in time to the beat. I noticed Blaise smirking, likely at my awkwardness, and I stuck my tongue out at him. He took it as an invitation to help me, slowly swooping in behind me and pulling me close before placing his large hands on my hips.

He somehow burrowed through my hair and brought his lips close to my ear to whisper, "You're gorgeous tonight. I know I already said that, but I just want you to hear it over and over again."

I leaned back into him instinctively, goosebumps erupting over my skin as his breath danced into my ear and across my neck. While this had always been a turn on for me, I was surprised at my body's reaction. Blaise and I had cuddled close on multiple occasions and I'd never reacted this way. I wasn't feeling drunk, so I couldn't blame it on the alcohol. We ended up flush against each other, and he wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me even tighter. I didn't even attempt to pull away. His hips were moving in a grinding motion, and I moved with him, finding that I enjoyed the scent of his cologne and the feel of his body against mine.

I reached for his other arm, and when I linked my fingers with his, I felt a spark between us, one that had never been there before. Although the sound was masked by the music, I felt my breath catch. As I guided his other arm around my waist, allowing him to fully hug me against his body, I was both confused and excited.

Was this a sign? Was I reacting this way because I was ready in general? Or was it because I was dancing with Blaise specifically?

Before I knew what was happening, he managed to spin me so we were face to face, and he was leaning forward. Certain he was going to kiss me, my heart started to race and my eyes widened. At the last moment, though, his face diverted its path and he whispered in my ear again. "I can tell you're scared, Tesoro. If you're not ready, I can keep waiting. You're worth every minute. Don't feel like you have to do anything tonight, but please don't make me watch you leave with someone else. I'm begging you, Hermione."

Clear as day now — Blaise wanted this, wanted me. The friendship I'd thought was like mine with Harry was no more. I stood on my tiptoes. "So I'm not just a friend then?" I felt him shake his head. "Blaise, I… I don't know what to say. I thought—"

"I know," he began. "Don't say anything. Just start thinking about it. I know you need to process, and I know it's been a shite year, but you're getting better now, and I wanted you to know. Before you go and start something with anyone else, just… think about it. Either way, we're friends. I… care about you, and I don't want you to run off because of this. If it's not what you want, I'll get over it."

My heart was pounding in my chest and I felt like a deep exhale into my ear would knock me over or turn me into a pile of mush at Blaise's feet. I pulled back and looked into his eyes as we continued dancing. He was focused on me, his pupils blown wide with want. I kissed his cheek, something I'd done a million times before, and said, "I'll start thinking."

He smiled and spun me back around so we could continue dancing like the other couples around us.

_Couples. He wanted to be a couple. He wanted me, even though he'd seen me at my absolute worst time and time again._

Pansy and Ron and everyone else had been right. He wanted to start something with me and I had been blind to it, likely for months. I supposed it didn't help that he had constantly told everyone that we were only friends. Just five months ago, I had been pining for Draco. While I still did from time to time, it was definitely lessening. Maybe by the time the new year rolled around, I'd be ready. However, I knew I needed to get through the beginning of October first, and that was going to be a challenge in and of itself.

When I finally looked up at Pansy, she grinned at me as she continued rocking her hips against Harry's. Ginny had found some poor wizard in the crowd and was dancing much more provocatively than I was. Ron was glaring at Blaise over the top of Luna's head, and George and Angelina were snogging. Trying to reconcile what was happening, I closed my eyes. I didn't feel _nothing_ for Blaise — but I wasn't sure how far what I felt extended beyond friendship. I had to admit that being pressed against him like this was actually sort of nice.

_Is this my loneliness speaking? Or do I really… Could I really…?_

His lips were at my ear again. "Oh, Tesoro, I want to take you to bed. Dancing like this, it makes me want you even more." I froze and tried to pull away, but he held me tightly. "Don't run. I already told you I won't push. But I need you to know. I can't keep denying it."

Moving back to my hips, his hands started rocking me again and I spun back around, wanting to talk more. My mouth moved to his ear. "Blaise, if we go there, I need to be certain. I don't want to start something up with you and then lose you altogether. You know what I did to Ron, and I—"

"You will never lose me. I'm a grown man, Hermione. I can handle a little bit of rejection," he replied.

I shook my head. "It doesn't change the fact that I want to be sure. This first time, the first time after him, it's going to be hard for me."

He pulled back and smirked, turning my words into an innuendo, and I nearly slapped him. I knew what he was thinking.

"Blaise, I need you to be serious right now! I'm really scared," I admitted. "I know that whoever I start a relationship with is going to be compared to him, and I know that's not right."

With a scoff, he said, "I can hold my own against Malfoy, Hermione. Don't run scared because you think I'll get my feelings hurt. I know you'll likely always love him, maybe even more than whoever you end up with, but maybe not. Maybe something built on friendship could be just what you need."

"Maybe," I murmured, spinning back around and ending the conversation.

* * *

After a few more songs, I made my way back to the couches, Blaise following closely. I sipped my champagne and tried not to watch my friends as they essentially shagged on the dance floor. He sat beside me, examining my face, likely trying to decide what approach to take with me. Like I had hundreds of times before, I leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. After that dance and his admission, it felt a bit different. Pulling out his wand, he cast a charm that muffled the thumping beat of the music.

"So, just to be clear since it was hard to hear out there, you're going to think about this?" he asked softly.

I nodded. "I will, Blaise, but I need to get through October first. I don't know what's going to happen when—"

He turned me to face him and placed a hand on my jaw. "Nothing is going to happen. I won't let you be alone for this, Hermione. Please don't shut everyone out. Don't shut _me_ out. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"I don't want to feel that way again, but it could happen," I replied. "That's why I don't want to rush into anything. It could be doomed from the start because of everything I've been through."

I felt his hand venture down my back, gently stroking it. "It won't be doomed unless you want it to be, Tesoro. You need to let him go."

"I know that. I think I'm starting to," I answered, tipping my face down and looking at my lap. "But this is all a bit confusing. I mean, you just told Ron we're only friends at the start of the night and—"

"Do you really think I wanted to tell you with an audience? Especially when it was Weasley who asked the question?"

_I suppose that makes sense. How do I act around him now? Do I still let him touch me? Do I act like I don't know he wants more?_

Blaise laughed, and I chanced a glance up at him, not really understanding what was funny in that moment. "When I told you to think, Hermione, I didn't mean tonight. Have some more champagne and dance with me again. Celebrate. I'm not going anywhere. Nothing has really changed now."

"Okay, let's do that. I'm sure that lot is wondering what we're doing over here," I answered, even though I knew everything _had_ changed.

I just wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Today, or yesterday at this point, was my birthday. I thought of you and how we spent it last year, sneaking away to New York for the weekend, of how it was our last real trip together. But only for a little while. Things are truly getting better this time around, and something really unexpected happened today. Blaise told me that he's interested in me. I didn't see that coming at all, though I suppose it makes sense — he's always told everyone who's questioned him that we're just friends. Honestly, I haven't looked at anyone in that way since you, but I'm comfortable with him. We danced together and it felt nice to be held again…_

_I told him I'd think things through, but I'm almost anticipating falling to pieces in October. It seems to be a pattern for me to fall apart during dates that were significant to us. I'm guessing the anniversary of our break-up, of your Obliviation, would fall into that category. It happened at Christmas last year and then on your wedding anniversary this year. I likely would've ended up the same way around your birthday if I hadn't been staying with Harry and Pansy. I just… I don't know what to do. I don't feel like I'll ever really be able to feel the same way about another man, and that terrifies me. Especially if I decide to take a chance on Blaise. He's been there for me through everything — every fight, break-up, tryst, the Obliviation and the aftermath._

_I feel like he deserves so much more than I could ever give him, and that puts me off the idea of it. I don't want to lose him as a friend, and I think it would be weird to start up with your best mate. Pansy seems to think it's a brilliant idea, though I'm not sure why. Merlin, she was so pissed tonight. Harry had to carry her through the Floo. Ron and Luna were there, and George and Angelina, too. Hannah and Neville came to dinner, but not out to the club._

_I wish I could talk to you, though I'm sure you wouldn't understand my hesitation with Blaise. It would just be nice to see what you think. Luna says our auras don't mesh romantically, that it looks the same as mine with Harry's. I nearly laughed when she told us that._

_I hope you're well and so very happy. I still miss you, even if it's not quite every single day at this point. I do hope I see you in person again someday, but I have a feeling your father is discouraging you from re-entering wizarding society at the moment. He likely wants to keep us apart._

_Hermione xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So will she or won't she? And what was that with Mr. Nott? Let me know what you think. We'll see Draco next week, though! 
> 
> Also, I'm in the middle of posting two new stories - Pureblood Traditions (a Draco/Hermione/Lucius eventual triad) co-written with my wonderful friend smithandbarrowman and Alone Together, a little story for Draco's 40th. Check them out if you're so inclined.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I love hearing your thoughts every week, even if I can't give a good answer!


	12. Draco - September 2006

Since our anniversary, things with Astoria seemed a bit better, though we were still going through hot and cold spells. I never really knew what to expect from her on any given day and often felt out of my depth. When I tried to get to know her again, she often skirted around my questions, and I couldn't understand why. It had been a year since my accident and we'd been living back in our house for nearly six months. Most of our days were calm and happy, but others were filled with small arguments and perceived slights.

There were moments that I felt a certain something was missing from my life, though. Sometimes, I thought it could be explained away by the fact that I used to work full time. Others, though… Well, I felt like it was more than that. The gaping holes in my memories — whole days or weeks at a time — made me feel like I was missing a lot more. During these slivers of time, I felt restless, unable to sit still. Flying was the only thing that helped to calm my nerves, and I was afraid to get on a broomstick most days.

What if I fell again and was hurt? How would that affect Scorpius and Astoria?

Our days were full of each other, our little family, and Astoria had expressed interest in getting pregnant again. With a baby barely nine months old, I wanted to wait. Every time we had sex, I made sure I cast a contraceptive. I wasn't leaving it up to her when she seemed desperate for another child. I had no idea why; she had loathed being pregnant since it had taken a toll on her. And then I'd feel guilty for thinking she'd trick me into getting her pregnant. We were married. It was a decision we would make together when the time was right.

Each time a bout of restlessness hit, I would pick up one of the Muggle books Granger had apparently given me. There were no notes inside of them to tell me why she'd chosen those particular ones — I figured she thought writing in a book was akin to making a Horcrux — but they were all fascinating. Some showed how Muggles viewed magic or explained what they considered to be the unexplainable. In the back of my mind, I was starting to wonder if she was trying to educate me on Muggles to change my opinions.

However, I couldn't dwell on that. If I ever saw her again, it would be in passing at some stuffy Ministry function or in Diagon Alley. Or maybe on Platform 9 and 3/4 one day when I brought Scorpius to the train…

I wondered if she would look like the woman I dreamed up when I was younger, fit and gorgeous with her red-haired children. Because obviously she'd marry a Weasley, even if it wasn't the one from our year at Hogwarts. Sometimes, when my mind was really cruel, she was there with me, our curly-haired blonde daughters boarding the train…

Yes, I'd been a tad bit obsessed with Granger after Hogwarts, thinking about marrying her and having a family together. From the way she mothered Potter and Weasley, I knew she'd be good at the whole family thing. But her hero status had made her untouchable, especially for me. The Golden Girl wasn't supposed to end up with a former Death Eater, no matter how much I fantasized about her.

I shook my head to clear it. I hadn't thought of those daydreams since I'd woken up from the coma, and I didn't want to continue down that path. When I married Astoria, I had closed the door on the fantasy of Hermione Granger forever. I remembered promising myself that on my wedding day. I hadn't worked up the bollocks to ask her out in the three years we worked together, so it was a moot point. I didn't know if she would've accepted me, but Astoria did. Even though she could have voided the marriage contract after the war, she insisted on keeping it if I wanted to.

Granger wasn't my wife or my lover. She never had been, and she never would be. I had a wife and a son and I was perfectly content in this life.

I just needed something to fill my bloody time so I remembered to forget about my former crush.

* * *

After much consideration, I immersed myself in studying everything I needed to become an Auror again. I knew my parents and Astoria would likely be unhappy if I made the decision to return, but Potter had told me I'd been good at it, and I really wanted to start contributing again. Maybe if I went back to work and got myself back into a routine, I'd start remembering things. My brain was atrophying from sitting idle, and my magic hadn't really been used properly in months. Summoning Charms and Silencing Charms could only do so much.

I set up a training room in the lower level of our house, complete with exercise equipment and a dueling dummy. I knew I'd need to eventually duel a real person, but this would do for the time being.

Carting all of my Defence Against the Dark Arts books downstairs, I knew which one I needed to look at first. Ever since Scorpius' birth, I had been wondering about when I'd learned to cast a Patronus. I hadn't succeeded at it when I went through initial Auror training, but they'd let me pass through since I'd excelled at everything else. Because I had the Dark Mark, I wasn't supposed to be able to perform the Patronus Charm, anyway. Potter had told me over and over again that Snape had been able to do it with a Dark Mark, but I still hadn't managed it and couldn't remember when I finally had.

When I found the textbook I had been looking for, I ran my fingers over the spine. There was a small slip of paper tucked into the book, and I opened it to that section. Examining the little piece of paper, I saw a logo on the top — the hotel in Paris we'd stayed at for our anniversary. A slow smile spread across my face as I thought about the night Astoria and I had reconnected.

The following was written in neat, feminine script:

_Think of this weekend when you next try to cast your Patronus. I'm sure there is at least one worthy memory... if not a few. I know you'll be able to do it soon. Have faith in yourself, love._

Upon first glance, it didn't seem to match Astoria's handwriting, but I couldn't be sure. However, I took this note as confirmation that she'd been telling the truth — we'd gone to Paris for our anniversary the previous year and stayed at the same hotel. I must have brought the book to read before bed — that wouldn't have been unusual, especially if I was really invested in learning the charm for work. Reading over the note once more, I wished I could remember the weekend mentioned. However, the sweet gesture brought a smile to my lips, and I tucked the little slip of paper back into the book, preserving the memory.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to clear my mind and focus on a happy memory, just like Potter had said on the night of Scorpius' birth. I had managed it at the hospital and I was sure that, if I tried now, I'd manage it again. Wondering if I'd gotten my dragon back, I thought of Scorpius's first real laugh and cast.

" _Expecto Patronum_!" I shouted, and the silver otter burst from my wand again. I stared at it, perplexed. Something about it was familiar, though I didn't know what. I knew I was supposed to have a dragon. Other than the accident, what had happened in my life to trigger this change?

I reopened the book and turned to the chapter on the Patronus Charm. Skimming the words, a few things jumped out.

_Constant unless there is some sort of major emotional upheaval in the wizard or witch's life._

_Often takes the form of a creature that embodies the person you love, or a person who loves you deeply._

Was all of this some kind of joke? There had been no emotional changes in my life, minus having Scorpius. I didn't think he'd be represented by an otter, though — not that I really knew much about them. And I didn't think I had any secret admirers who would love me enough to change my Patronus.

Setting it aside for further consideration, I started practicing other things. Shield Charms, Disarming, Disillusionment — all of the most basic defences for Aurors. I was pleased I could still perform the normal spells well a year after the accident. They didn't require any study, but I knew I needed to focus on improving my reaction time again. It was one thing to do things properly at home and another entirely to do them in the field.

A couple of hours into my mental workout, Astoria came home and walked down the stairs, looking at the transfigured room and books surrounding me. "What in the name of Salazar are you doing, Draco?"

"I'm trying to whip my magic back into shape," I replied. "It's been so long since I've really used it. I need to make sure I'm still capable."

"Capable of what?"

I shrugged. "Anything I need to be capable of. I'm bored, Astoria. There's nothing to do around here and I want to make sure I don't let my brain turn to mush."

She set Scorpius down on the floor and he crawled over to me immediately. I picked him up and cuddled him for a moment before he started squirming. Setting him back down on the floor, I conjured a set of his favorite blocks from his bedroom.

"Well, you could come with me to tea or go to work for your father," she suggested. "Or you could take up flying again." I must have shot her a glare because she looked offended. "Or not. I'm sorry, what part of that was a bad suggestion, Draco?"

"The flying, Astoria! What if I get in another accident and then I can't remember anything properly?" I replied, trying to keep my tone level, even though I felt angry.

A shadow of something I couldn't place moved across her features. Something was bothering her, though I knew she wouldn't ever tell me what it was. That was just the way of the pureblood wife.

"Well, what about working with your father?"

I scoffed at her. "Are you kidding me? You want me to be involved with Father and his shady business contacts again? Do you remember how that worked out for me when I was sixteen?"

She looked chastened, so I didn't continue scolding her. Her eyes were actually sad, like she was upset that I was frustrated with either her or my life, but I knew none of this was her fault. I had likely done something stupid while flying, thinking I was invincible, and I'd fucked up my whole life. I noticed Astoria's eyes roaming over the books, taking in their titles, and then she noticed the dueling dummy.

"Are you studying to go back into the Auror department, Draco? Tell me the truth."

I internally debated lying to her, but that never seemed to get anyone anywhere. Secrets and lies were always the undoing of relationships in books. But things had just started to get better between us — I didn't want to spoil them by upsetting her if I was honest and said yes.

"No, but it seemed like as good a place as any to start. I'm going to work my way through as much as I can over the next few weeks. I really think it will help me get better," I explained.

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Good. I don't want to spend all my time worrying about you again. It was very hard for me, being the wife of an Auror. I never knew if you'd make it back to me. It was especially taxing when I got pregnant."

Astoria was speaking so formally. I knew most women in our circles did that when they were trying to hide emotion.

"I'm sorry it was hard for you, Astoria. I know I loved it. I can remember the feeling of closing a case and Potter told me I was good at it. I never imagined he'd like working with me."

Letting out a sigh, she said, "You _were_ good at it, Draco. They sent you all over the world tracking down Death Eaters and sympathizers. You were always gone. I can't imagine you'd want that kind of a life now that we have Scorpius to think about."

I looked down at my son, sitting happily on the floor at my feet with the blocks. He was carefully trying to stack them, and I thought about missing simple moments like this. While I was bored with my life, I knew I didn't want to travel the way she was saying I had. Strangely enough, I couldn't remember being gone all that often.

"Where did I go?" I asked. "I can't remember any of these trips. And you're saying I went all over the world?"

Astoria nodded. "Greece, Paris, Italy, America… I'm sure there were other places, but I can't remember right now."

Rubbing my hands over my face, I tried to recall something about any of those places. I could see glimpses of Paris, but I'd been there many times and couldn't remember working there at all.

"I fucking hate this," I groaned. "I can't remember anything and it's driving me mad. I want to know what all those places were like."

"Language, Draco! Scorpius is right there," she squealed.

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even talk yet, Stori. Surely I can curse for a few more months before I have to start censoring myself."

Glaring at me, she picked Scorpius up. "Well, we'll just leave you to your magic practice. Sorry that you had an accident and can't remember your little trips, Draco. Honestly, I'm sorry that we're not enough to make you happy."

"You do! Both of you do! It's just so aggravating that you, my parents, and Harry bloody Potter know more about my own life than I do, Astoria! You must be able to understand my frustration with the whole situation!"

Not bothering to answer me, she continued walking up the stairs, keeping her eyes fixed forward. I didn't know what I'd done to set her off like that. She was the one who had brought up my travels, not me. For just one moment, I wished she could understand what it was like to constantly be looking for information that used to be present. Memories, whole days or weeks or whatever, were just entirely gone. Like they had never happened at all.

I picked up my wand and started firing Stunners and other light hexes at the dueling dummy. I was so aggravated, so frustrated, that I needed to take it out on someone or something. Astoria was the only possible human target I had, and I didn't want to hurt her. Instead of turning my anger inwards, I directed it at the dummy, making sure it felt my rage.

* * *

After half an hour of working my frustration off, I decided to head upstairs and apologize to Astoria. Even if I still thought my attitude about not being able to access my memories was totally acceptable, it clearly bothered her. I could swallow my pride to keep her happy. I didn't want to be arguing with her, as well as frustrated with myself.

When I reached the kitchen, I saw Scorpius watching levitating fruit. Astoria was flipping through _Witch Weekly_ , her wand in her hand, the patterns she was moving it in matching the way the fruit was spinning.

Slowly approaching her, I said, "I'm sorry for getting frustrated. It's just… hard. I thought I would've remembered more by now."

"It's fine, Draco. I should be more understanding. I'm sorry I'm not," she replied. "It's not easy for me, either, you know. I want to help you, and I can't. There's nothing I can do to fix this!"

Her reaction seemed a bit extreme, but I didn't say anything about it. Why would she ever think she could fix my injury? It was truly beyond me, beyond my comprehension.

When I looked down at the article she was looking at, I saw a spread devoted to Granger's birthday. She was twenty-seven, unmarried, and out on the town with Blaise, Potter, the Weasel, Pansy, and Loony Lovegood. Blaise held a prominent place at her side, his arm looped around her waist possessively. Immediately, I felt jealous of him.

Astoria turned the page before I could read anything printed. "Bloody Golden Trio can't even go out for a night without us having to read all about it," she hissed. "And, of course, Pansy and Blaise were out with them, too."

"Granger's birthday, right?" I asked and she nodded in response, a scowl on her face. "I'm surprised she's all snuggled up with Blaise."

"They're friends, Draco. They've worked together for years at this point. He's always seen with the Golden Trio and Pansy. It's like he's Granger's surrogate boyfriend or something," she explained. "But who knows? I think he's actually in love with her and waiting for her to be ready for something serious."

Astoria was looking at an advertisement for Madame Malkin's, a fetching set of pink robes featured. They looked expensive, and I was sure they'd appear in her wardrobe later this week with the way she was ogling them.

_Blaise? In love with Granger? There was no way. He knew I was always interested in her..._

"He never said anything," I stated, and Astoria turned to me, a meaningful look on her face. "I mean, he never said anything that I can remember."

Shrugging, she ignored my comment. My eyes moved back to Scorpius as my mind spiraled. I thought of my birthday, the way Blaise had said Granger would find the right man and settle down.

_There are plenty of men who would be willing to commit to her and give her everything she ever wanted._

And he was one of them. I knew I should be happy for her; Blaise would care for her and love her properly, but the thought of seeing them together at social events and at more private gatherings twisted my stomach into knots. I knew I'd be envious of Blaise and jealousy had always turned me into a right prick, especially when it came to her.

In my mind, I could see Blaise's hand on her lower back, pressing her close to him while they kissed. When they broke apart, she smiled up at him, giving him the same grin I'd seen on her face in _The Prophet_ when she and Weasley had been photographed together after the war.

While I hated Weasley, I was ultimately able to understand their relationship. They had been close friends and turned into lovers during the war. If she'd married Weasley, our paths wouldn't have crossed often — only when Pansy and Potter invited us to the same events — but if she married Blaise…

I'd likely see them together a lot, especially if I went back to work. We'd all be in the department together and I'd see him go into her office and close the door, and I'd wonder…

I stopped my train of thought. Remembering what I'd told myself earlier in the day, I tried to settle down. When I'd married Astoria, I'd given up on all my fantasies of Hermione Granger. It didn't matter who she ended up with, whether it was Weasel or Blaise or Seamus bloody Finnigan. I was just having trouble keeping my mind straight.

Again, I found myself angry that I could make new memories perfectly, but couldn't recall the simplest things from the past.

I was being completely ridiculous. I'd not spoken to her in years, other than a polite greeting at work and our annual book exchange. We had worked together for three whole years, and I'd never approached her or tried to befriend her. Out of all the things I could still remember or feel with any amount of certainty, why did this absurd infatuation have to be one of them?

Scorpius laughed, pulling me out of my head. I ran a hand through my fringe, pushing it back from my face, and looked over at Astoria. Her eyes were both angry and sad at the same time. I waited for her to say something to me, to confront me about what I'd been thinking about, but she didn't.

Instead, her attention drifted to Scorpius. The fruit was now dancing mid-air, the individual pieces circling around each other. I saw him reach for a dining chair and quickly placed a Sticking Charm on the legs, holding it stationary. He pulled himself up, getting to his feet and releasing the chair. Smiling, he continued looking up at the fruit and clapped his hands. He bounced a little bit, his knees bending, and he fell down.

But he didn't cry. He kept on giggling and clapping.

Astoria and I looked at each other and laughed with him. He was the link between us and the most important thing in my life.

Again, I resolved to let all my dreams about Hermione Granger die. If she ended up with Blaise, I'd find a way to deal with the shared events. I'd focus my energy on Astoria and Scorpius, on ensuring my son grew up in a loving home and had a normal childhood.

I'd give him everything that I'd missed out on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave me your thoughts and theories! I love to see them!


	13. December 2006, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We switch narrators partway through this chapter. I will make sure to mark it very clearly.

**Lucius — December 2006**

* * *

At the beginning of December, I was feeling anxious. The annual Christmas Ball at the Ministry was coming up, and I knew we should attend. Last year, since Astoria was heavily pregnant and Draco was still recovering, we had all opted to celebrate the holiday quietly at home. However, this year, we had no excuses.

When I received the owl with the invitation, I looked it over, trying to decide if it was worth it to go. I knew Narcissa would want to; parties like this were one of the things she loved. Now that our family was back in favourable standing, we would be expected to show up. Draco's work with the Auror department and my cooperation after the war had secured a lot of forgiveness. When one added in the hundreds of thousands of Galleons we'd donated to various causes, we were definitely climbing our way back to the top of the social ladder.

In my head, I wondered if Ms. Granger would be there. She hadn't been in attendance the previous year, either — it had been squawked about in _The Daily Prophet_. However, I knew she'd been in a downward spiral at the time and Blaise assured me she was feeling much better this year. She was still eating and sleeping properly. I wanted to ask how he knew those things, but I refrained. I knew I should be happy she was moving on — it meant she'd stay away from Draco.

But I was still having the same feelings I'd had around his birthday. Every time I thought about the way Draco had longed for her, I felt sick to my stomach with remorse. When I imagined her getting together with Blaise, I thought about how Draco would feel when he saw them together — his best friend and the girl he'd coveted for so many years.

Jealous. Angry. Unable to accept it. Fixated on his own feelings for the girl.

My thoughts were repetitive, and I was growing annoyed with myself. I had thought the guilt would fade over time, but it hadn't. It lived just below the surface of my consciousness and picked the most inopportune moments to rear its ugly head.

Idly, I wondered if she and Blaise were a couple now. They hadn't been in June, but relationships changed over time, and Narcissa had seen photos from Hermione's birthday in Witch Weekly. Blaise had been at her side, not Potter nor Weasley, and that made me think things between them had progressed. Blaise had made it clear that he was interested in her and, if Hermione had been attracted to Draco, it would be easy for her to feel the same way about Blaise. They were very similar young men and Zabini was available. He'd been her shoulder to cry on, her rock through all of the messy years with Draco.

I sent an owl to Draco and Astoria, asking them to come to the Manor for dinner so we could discuss our Christmas plans. Silently, I hoped that I'd have an opportunity to get Astoria alone before the meal so I could enlist her help. Narcissa and I would attend the ball and represent the Malfoy family, and Draco and Astoria would have to stay home with Scorpius. I didn't want Draco to see his former flame and, more importantly, I didn't want her to see Draco and Astoria. They were so bloody happy sometimes, and I didn't want to rub it in her face. Maybe things could go back to normal once she was married to someone else but, until then, I didn't want to cause her more pain than I already had.

* * *

When Draco and Astoria came through the Floo, Narcissa immediately took Draco and Scorpius to the nursery. She'd spent the last week changing things around, making it more appropriate for a toddler than a newborn. I knew Draco was humouring his mother, but it worked in my favour. Once they were out of earshot, I told Astoria about the Ministry Ball.

"So you want us to stay home?" I nodded in response and her face fell. "I'd really like to go, Lucius. It's been so long since we've been to a proper function," she complained.

_Why were women so obsessed with these boring parties?_

I leveled her with a pointed glare. "Do you want to bring Draco to a place where he's sure to run into Hermione Granger? You know she'll be there, Astoria. I think we need to give it a bit more time. We need to give _her_ a bit more time."

Astoria tilted her head to the side questioningly. "Why do you care about her, Lucius? Why do you think she needs more time?"

"They were properly in love, Astoria. Do you think that just went away for her like it did for Draco?" I asked.

Astoria shrugged. "She was willing to give him up. I don't think she could've loved him as much as he loved her and just let him go like that."

"She was hospitalized this time last year. Of course she loved him, too! Do you really think she would've carried on with him if she didn't?" Her expression remained blank, and I wondered how she could be so stubborn. She'd gone as far as to leave the room when Hermione had been mentioned at Draco's birthday dinner. Trying to drive my point home, I continued, "You know if she was in a new relationship it would be front page news. I think we need to wait until she's with someone else before we put them in the same room together."

Astoria waved me off. "She's been pictured with Blaise a few times now. I think they must be an item. She's never liked the press, so I'm sure they've been out a lot more than we've seen."

_Why can't this girl see my point? She has what she wanted — Draco and the baby — so she should just focus on those two things and leave the Ministry functions to Narcissa and me._

I put on my most authoritative tone. "Astoria, you will tell Draco you wish to spend the holidays quietly since it is Scorpius's first Christmas. You _will_ convince him this is the best idea, and that's the end of it. I think they need to stay apart for at least another year. We need to make sure we didn't violate his mind for no reason."

She had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. "You heard Hermione as well as I did, Lucius. There is _nothing_ for Draco to recall. She physically removed the memories. Even if she stepped right up to him and kissed him under the mistletoe, he wouldn't remember a damn thing. He'd think it was the first time."

"Do you, or do you not, want to keep your husband this time around, Astoria?" I asked.

Softening a bit, she replied, "Of course I do. I've always loved him and wanted the life we have together now. But how is he really mine if we can't live a normal life? In any other universe, we'd be going to that ball with you and Narcissa."

_Fair point, even if you are a silly little bint for believing Draco will be able to stay away from her if he's re-exposed._

"One more missed event, Astoria. Everyone will understand. The two of you can re-enter society at the first event next year," I compromised, knowing I needed to wrap this conversation up before Draco came back downstairs.

"Fine, but you realise that's the Victory Ball, right? She'll be on display there, just like she is every single year."

I nodded. At that point, nearly eighteen months would have passed. That had to be enough time for the girl to move on.

Without another word, Astoria swiftly walked down the hallway to the dining room, her heels angrily clacking on the stone floor. I understood her point — avoiding Hermione Granger in the wizarding world would be damn near impossible — she was too famous and the community was simply too small. Their paths would inevitably cross, especially if Draco decided to return to work in the DMLE.

Astoria had expressed numerous times that she'd wanted Draco to choose her, that she'd been hoping for it when she told him she was pregnant with Scorpius. Because of the Obliviation, he'd never chosen his own path and I felt sure that she wanted to put him in a room with Hermione to see if he'd choose her now.

Lost in my thoughts, I stared blankly at the flames in the fireplace and sipped my firewhisky, trying to calm my nerves about both the dinner and the Christmas ball. Things were so tangled — such a fucking mess — that I was blindly fumbling along, hoping I was making the right decisions for my family.

Of course, it often felt like I was making all the wrong ones.

A high-pitched laugh echoed through the Manor, bringing me back to reality. Scorpius was laughing and Narcissa soon followed.

Moving back into the entryway, I turned my head to see the three people I loved most in this world coming back down the main staircase, and I couldn't help but forget my troubles for a moment. Draco had his son on his shoulders and was grinning at something Narcissa had said. None of them had seen me yet, and I was fine with that. Observing this moment made me forget my guilt, even if it was just for a moment.

This was what I had been hoping for — Draco's presence and happiness, spending time here with his son — and I'd gotten it. I just didn't know if I could keep the secrets safely hidden.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, I was waiting for them. "Where'd Astoria go?" Draco asked.

"To the dining room. I'm assuming she's getting some wine."

Draco eyed me sceptically, but then Scorpius tugged on his hair and kicked his little feet. "Ow, Scorp! Don't hurt Daddy!"

The little blond boy ceased his actions immediately and Draco headed down the hallway, looking for his wife. Narcissa stayed at my side and waved a hand, silently and wandlessly casting a privacy charm. Her grasp of magic and her sheer power was a well-kept secret. Of course, I'd found out about her abilities after we were married, and I was still in awe of them now. My wife could easily hex me into the ground, and I was perfectly fine with that.

She fixed her blue eyes on me and asked, "Astoria didn't take it well, then?"

I shook my head. "Her exact words were, 'But how is he really mine if we can't live a normal life?'"

Narcissa sighed. "I understand what she's saying but this is rather stubborn of her. She is the one who wanted to keep their family together. She got that."

"She wanted it to be by choice, not by default. Again, it's all my fault."

"Lucius, you're eventually going to have to let go of this guilt. If you don't, it will eat you alive," she replied.

"I'm trying. Honestly, I don't even know why it's still bothering me. They seem perfectly content together and—"

Before I could ramble on, Narcissa kissed me, cutting me off. "Stop, Lucius. We've been through this. What's done is done. We can't change the past without risking Scorpius, and I won't do that. Draco wouldn't _want_ us to do that, regardless of how he feels about Hermione."

Her hand caressed my jaw and I pressed my lips to her forehead. I didn't understand how she was able to forgive me for my sins over and over again, but I was so grateful for her. She gave me the strength I needed to make it through every single day.

Lacing her fingers through mine, she gave me even more of her strength and led the way to the dining room. I didn't want to sit down to a meal with Draco and Astoria, but I'd been the one to summon them here. Praying Astoria would be convincing, we entered the room. Draco was pressing a kiss to his wife's lips and Scorpius had already been placed in his highchair. A smile lingered on his face after he'd moved back into his own seat, and Astoria also looked happy. Narcissa and I took our usual seats before beginning the holiday conversation.

"Draco, we were all invited to the Ministry's annual holiday party. It's going to be held on Christmas Eve this year," I began. "Do you think you're up for it?"

Before he could even respond, Astoria laid one of her hands on his forearm. "Darling, I think we should be at home for Scorp's first holiday, don't you? We'll be both here and at my parents' estate on Christmas Day. Wouldn't it be nice to have some time for just the three of us?"

Running a hand through his hair, Draco thought about it before answering, but I'd seen his uncomfortable expression when she'd used the pet name. He met Astoria's eyes and, like the proper Slytherin woman she was, she filled them with promise. Catching the seductive hint, Draco promptly replied, "Yeah, I think that's probably for the best. I don't want to miss a second of his first Christmas. There will be other balls."

Nodding her head in affirmation, Astoria said, "Then it's settled. Lucius, you and Narcissa won't mind representing the family and sending our regrets?"

"Of course not!" Narcissa beamed. "You know I never miss a party."

Draco grabbed Astoria's hand off the table and kissed her knuckles, showing her the affection she clearly craved from him.

In my head, I thought, _This is enough. It has to be enough, even if it isn't the whole truth._

* * *

**Hermione — December 2006**

* * *

I was fourteen months post-Draco. It was funny, the way I'd divided my life into pieces. Pre-Draco, Draco, and then post-Draco. Fourteen months, and I still hadn't kissed another bloke. True to his word, Blaise was being patient. The subject of _us_ hadn't been brought up since my birthday, and I was grateful for that. I'd made lists of pros and cons, weighing my options for nearly three months now.

Pros: Handsome, smart, brave, always there for me, knows my whole past — good and bad, rumoured to be good in the sack.

Cons: Draco's best mate, my best friend, could mess everything up, could lose someone very important to me if it ends, Ron will go mental.

I held the little invitation that had been in my mail tray in my hands, turning it over. Would it be a good idea to try…? To go with Blaise to a Ministry function and see how it felt? The one downside to that plan would be the insane amounts of press present, but we always said we were just friends…

Sighing, I threw the envelope across the room and cradled my head in my arms. Why in the name of Morgana was this so difficult?

_Draco's gone. He's been gone for over a year. It's time to let go and move on. If you don't, Hermione, you're going to be alone forever. Blaise is a good man with a good heart, and he did make you feel like melting on your birthday…_

However, every time I closed my eyes at night, I still saw fair skin and grey eyes in my fantasy lovers. I didn't see the darker skin and brown eyes of my best friend, and I was afraid that would never change. If it didn't, how would I ever be intimate with him? I couldn't shag Blaise while dreaming of Draco. That was wrong on so many levels.

The two sides of my brain were at war about this, so I decided to shut them out of the decision. If I went with my heart — the heart that had been shattered and glued back together with pieces still missing — it said to try. Blaise had given me so much of his time, and I knew he really cared about me. He'd essentially been giving me pieces of his heart to fix mine for over a year. If nothing else, that would be a good foundation to build on. I wouldn't be meeting someone new, someone who I didn't really understand or who didn't understand me.

Standing from my desk, I swallowed my sea of doubts down, filling my stomach with crashing waves of anxiety. I walked out into the Auror department and saw Blaise smiling at one of the female Aurors. An emotion I was familiar with — jealousy — fueled my final steps to him. When I reached his desk, he looked up at me.

"Tesoro, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked with a grin.

I cleared my throat. "Can I speak with you? In my office, please?"

Blaise stood to his full height. "I'll see you later, Mel. The boss wants a word."

"Several words," I snapped, and he looked at me questioningly.

Once we were safely in my office, he shut the door. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

I summoned the invitation to the holiday ball and held it out to him. "Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted to — if you wouldn't mind — I was going to ask you to come with me to this event, but if you have plans with Mel—"

Blaise stepped around my desk and embraced me, smiling widely as I tried to pull away. "Oh, you're jealous of her?"

"No," I replied. "Why would I be jealous of someone who was probably not even in first year during the war?"

Blaise snickered. "You are! You thought I had stopped waiting for you to make up your mind!"

I tried to push away from him again, but he only held on tighter and pulled me closer. Our bodies were nearly flush against each other. When his face started coming towards mine, I knew what was going to happen, and I was powerless to stop it. Everything was moving in slow motion, including my brain, and before I could really react, his lips were on mine, coaxing them to part slightly and accept his kiss.

My first instinct was to push him away. This wasn't right. He wasn't Draco. The kiss didn't feel right. However, after a few seconds, I let it go — started to let Draco go — and focused on kissing Blaise properly. One of his hands was at the small of my back and one was tangled in my hair, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. It was foreign and exciting and new… but it was also filled with less than Draco's kisses had been. Less desperate need, less passion, less love.

I tried to remember, tried to think… had I felt those things the first time I'd kissed Draco?

Blaise's lips pulled away. "Stop, Hermione. I can feel you tensing up and freaking out. Relax. It's a kiss, not a marriage proposal."

Laughing nervously, I brought my mouth back to his. We kissed, learning each other's lips slowly. When his hand trailed from my lower back down to the curve of my hip, my brain started to fog a bit so I pulled back, needing to stop before this escalated.

I pulled away and caught my breath, pressing my fingers to my lips. Blaise was smiling at me, and I tentatively smiled back. Realising I had never gotten a true answer about the ball, I broke the somewhat awkward silence. "So, um, can I take that as a yes? You'll come with me to the holiday ball?"

"Well, this is the first I've heard of it. You didn't ask me before. You just said you were _going to_ ask me. You might've changed your mind after that kiss," he teased, making me crazy.

Placing my hands on my hips, I glared at him. "Blaise, would you like to come to the holiday ball as my date?"

With a smirk, he grabbed my hands and pulled them off my hips before kissing me once more. "Oh, Hermione, I thought you'd never ask! Of course I'd love to go to the ball with you."

"Prat," I whispered against his lips. "Can we just keep the date part between us, though? I'm not ready to talk to everyone about this. Not quite yet."

When the excitement left his face, my heart hurt. I knew this meant a lot to him, and he'd been waiting for an answer for months. However, after a moment, Blaise put his most charming grin back on and looked down at me. "Don't worry about a thing, Tesoro. I'll keep my hands to myself at the ball. I know Pansy will be a right pain in the arse when she finds out, nevermind Weasley."

"Good, so that's settled then. Do you — should we — can we get lunch? Or dinner? Or something between now and then? I don't want it to feel awkward that night," I stuttered very ineloquently.

"Of course. It will all be fine. No awkwardness here. We're friends, and we're going to have a couple of dates. It's not a major crisis. Stop overthinking," he said.

But I couldn't stop overthinking — I'd been overthinking for months. I was going to start a relationship with Blaise, my best friend, the one who knew everything about me. He had admitted to having feelings for me for months, and this felt dangerous and exciting all at the same time. I certainly didn't want to lose his friendship, but I also felt something growing between us. I was shaky, unsure… but I thought about the way he'd kissed me, and I started to calm.

When he kissed me, I felt like his whole world, and I'd never experienced that before. Sure, Draco had been desperate for me, but I'd always known Astoria was there between us. I _knew_ I wasn't the only woman in his life.

Sighing, I pulled Blaise against me again, hugging him tightly. "I hope this isn't a mistake," I murmured. "We both know I'm kind of a walking disaster at this point, so it—"

"You are not. You got through October brilliantly. You reached out for help when you needed it, and you recovered within a few days. That's better than both Harry or I ever imagined," he admitted.

Which meant they'd talked about me. They'd likely formed a plan to make me feel better, to ensure I was looked after every single day. I bristled initially, wanting to say that I could, in fact, take care of myself. But after a moment of quiet consideration, I relaxed. I'd proved time and time again that I couldn't really handle things on my own, even when I thought I could. The fact that Harry and Blaise were both willing to come to my rescue wasn't a bad thing, and I had to stop looking at it that way.

My mind wandered to a quote I'd read in an American novel. The story had been about an extramarital affair, and I'd read it when Draco and I had just started sneaking around.

_"Then you're the one."_

_"The one what?"_

_"The one who loves more." ... "You know it's never fifty-fifty in a marriage. It's always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone always puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride."_

Blaise and I obviously were not married, but I could already tell how things would be between us. He would be the one who loved more, the one who made sure I was okay. Hell, he'd been doing that for years already, and I could admit that to myself. It was definitely seventy-thirty at this point, but that was something I could work on. My love could grow over time if I made sure to nurture it every day.

When it came to Draco, I didn't know where that line fell. Did he love more or did I?

My brain whirring, trying to think of where we fell on that spectrum, I zoned out. Blaise's hand cupped my face, and I snapped back to the present.

"Come back to me, Hermione," he said softly. When I blinked up at him, he smiled at me. "Where'd you go? Somewhere fun, I hope?"

Forcing a smile, I nodded, and he kissed me again.

And I actually enjoyed it.

* * *

The night of the ball, I was filled with nerves. Yes, I'd kissed Blaise in my office that day, but nothing physical had happened between us since. He was called away on a mission and then I had been busy helping with another case. While we made time to have lunch one afternoon and dinner one evening, that had been it. I wasn't sure if he was giving me space or if the kisses and little dates hadn't lived up to his expectations.

And honestly, I had no idea how I felt. The kisses in my office had confused me more than anything else. Comparing him to Draco during the first had been awkward, but the second had been… nice. It was less passionate than the ones I'd shared with Draco, but it had made my heart flutter a little bit. Feeling his hands on me, even in the most innocent of ways, had been unexpectedly wonderful.

Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I surveyed my gown. A shimmery gold lace covered me from bust to toes, and I was carrying an emerald clutch. It was festive and a mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin. My hair was mainly loose, though I'd pinned a section back to reveal one side of my face more. My lips were painted red, and I had put on a tiny bit of mascara to lengthen my lashes. I twisted and turned, trying to make sure the dress looked good from all angles.

When I heard the Floo activate downstairs, I felt like there were at least twelve owls flapping their wings in my stomach. My palm settled over my abdomen and I took a deep breath. Before I could start walking down the hallway, I heard Blaise's footsteps on the stairs. The easy familiarity he had with my house suddenly reminded me of Draco, of the way he'd just Floo in and go wherever he pleased. Of course, I'd never questioned Blaise doing this before tonight. It was one thing to have my _friend_ Blaise in my bedroom, but my _date_ Blaise?

That felt different.

When he saw me in the doorway, a slow smile spread across his face. He was carrying a single deep red rose and he extended it to me. "For you, Tesoro. You're absolutely stunning in that gown."

Taking the rose, I leaned in and placed a light kiss on his cheek. "You clean up nicely, too, Zabini," I teased, knowing he always looked his best.

When he met my eyes, he said, "I wish I could let everyone there know you're mine for the night, that I'm whisking you back to Venice once the party's over."

"You're what?" I breathed.

Blaise smirked. "I booked the same room as last year. I figured it would be nice to spend the night together somewhere familiar."

_Spend the night together? We didn't discuss this — we didn't — he didn't ask me. Why would he spring this on me now?_

I took a step back from him and my hand went to my chest, my fingers worrying my collarbone. "Hermione, it's going to be just like last year. We're going to sleep there, and I'm going to hold you. I'm not expecting anything else. Bring the same ugly pajamas if you want to. I didn't think it would scare you."

"I — Blaise, I can't. It's different now. No matter what you say, after the kiss in my office, it's different. Everything has changed. Are you going to tell me you'll kiss me goodnight and just… hold me like I'm a friend?"

His face fell. "Why are you so worried? I told you, we can take it slow. I don't need anything physical from you. Don't you trust me?"

_I do. I trust you. I don't trust myself._

Stepping forward, he looped an arm around my lower back and pulled me closer. "Stop. Stop worrying. I'm not going to try to shag you. I'm not going to initiate that at all. I'm going to wait for you to tell me you're ready."

_What if I'm never ready?_

"Please, say something," he begged. "You're making me think I've fucked this up before it's even had a chance to start."

"You're not. You haven't done anything, Blaise. I know we've stayed together a lot, but this... it feels different, and I'm afraid," I confessed.

Grabbing the hand I'd rested on my chest, he turned it and placed my palm against his heart. I could feel his pounding an intense rhythm against his chest, and I knew he was just as nervous, just as afraid as I was. That somehow made me feel a bit better.

"I'm scared, too," Blaise said. "I'm scared that I'll never be what he was to you. I'm scared that you're thinking of him right now, wondering what he's doing or if he's going to be there tonight. I'm scared that when you see him, you'll break down and I'll feel like I have to kill him for making you cry again."

_This is Blaise. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to take care of you. He would never push you. Try. Just try. If it feels like it's not working tonight, then you tell him and you try to get back to being friends._

"Okay," I whispered. "Let me get the pyjamas so you don't even _think_ about shagging me."

* * *

When we entered the ballroom, cameras flashed and reporters asked questions. Over and over, we said we were attending as colleagues and friends, nothing more. Our arms were linked as we walked the perimeter of the room, speaking to whoever happened to stop us along the way. I'd yet to see Harry or Ron, though I was constantly on the lookout. I knew they would be here, and I could really use a pep talk from Pansy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy strolling along, arm in arm. They looked as regal as ever, the years out of the spotlight not dulling their sparkle at all. In fact, they looked better now, likely because the stress of the past years had passed. Happiness radiated from Narcissa, and Lucius seemed to bask in her glow. Blaise caught me watching them and placed his hand on the small of my back, stepping in front of me and drawing my attention back to him.

"Do you want to go talk to them, Tesoro? I'm sure they won't mind if we say hello."

I thought about it for a moment and then started to shake my head. However, Narcissa spotted us. I saw her momentarily stiffen, her eyes falling on Blaise's hand resting a bit lower than was strictly professional. Narcissa squeezed Lucius's forearm, and he also turned his gaze on us. In that moment, we were stuck. We couldn't run from them, but I didn't want to talk to them, either.

I angled myself into Blaise's side, and he dutifully wrapped his arm around my waist. When the Malfoys reached us, Narcissa held out her hand to Blaise. He took it and pressed her knuckles to his lips. "Mrs. Malfoy, how are you tonight?"

"Quite well, thank you," she responded. "And you, Blaise? Hermione?"

Blaise smiled. "We're doing well. Just navigating the room and speaking to everyone before we have to sit down to dinner. Lucius, how are you?"

Lucius tried to smile, but it was obviously forced. "I'm fine. It's been awhile since you've been by the Manor, Blaise. Have you been busy?"

I was standing there, basically mute, watching the scene play out in front of me. Both Malfoys were scrutinizing me in turn and, for the life of me, I couldn't understand why. _Why_ did they do this whenever they saw me? I wasn't in Draco's life anymore, so what I looked like or who I was with shouldn't matter to them.

Blaise nodded. "I was called away on a case, and Draco's not living at the Manor, so there isn't much reason for me to come by."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at him. "You didn't really come by to see Draco much while he was recuperating..."

I tuned Lucius' voice out, getting lost in my own thoughts. While I was sure it was rude, I didn't care. I couldn't listen to him. I couldn't focus on the Malfoys when I was here with Blaise.

_Draco. Is he here? Did he come tonight? Will I see him and Astoria like I did the first year they were married? Will I feel like I'm going to vomit and run from the ballroom?_

"—this isn't the time or place for this discussion. Hermione and I are here as friends, and it's really none of your business anyway," Blaise hissed, drawing me back into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, what's going on?" I said, finally finding my voice.

Blaise pulled me in even closer. "Lucius suddenly seems to be upset we're here together and that I haven't kept up my friendship with Draco over the past year."

Narcissa intervened. "Stop this, Lucius! You know the situation _you_ caused is complicated. Blaise was friends with both of them, and Hermione needed the support more than Draco did. I'm sure that's all it is, right, Blaise?"

I watched Blaise's Adam's apple bob when he swallowed hard. "It is. Draco has you two and Scorpius and _his wife_. It's not been an easy year for anyone involved in this mess."

Lucius looked at me again, and I could tell he wanted to say something. "For what it's worth, Ms. Granger, I'm… I do apologize for the inconveniences the situation has caused you. Draco and Astoria are living in their house again, and Scorpius is doing very well. He's already shown signs of magic, which is pretty remarkable."

_It was worth it. It was all worth it if he's happy. Every hour I spent crying was totally worth it if he's doting on his son and enjoying his new life._

"I'm so glad to hear that," I said quietly. "All I wanted was for him to be happy. It's a relief to know he is."

"Deliriously so since his anniversary," Lucius stated, a smug look on his face. "It was such a quick shift in temperament that I was nearly concerned about it."

An then Harry and Pansy joined us, breaking the tension. But my mind had already started to spiral from Lucius's words.

_Deliriously happy since his anniversary. What could've changed so drastically around his anniversary? He and Astoria had gone to Paris, and… sex. They started having sex again. In the hotel that Draco and I had loved in Paris._

I imagined the glazed look in Draco's eyes after an orgasm, and deliriously happy seemed like an apt description.

Feeling a hand grasping my shoulder, I turned and met Harry's eyes. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"Yes," I responded, exhaling the breath I'd been holding. "I'm sorry. I think the champagne just went to my head a little bit. What were you saying?"

"Pansy and I were just greeting you. Nothing serious," he responded. "Are you two off to Italy again after this?"

At those words, the Malfoys appeared to focus on us rather closely. Blaise just nodded. "We're staying on the canal again, same place as last year."

Feeling my face heat at the implication, I didn't look up at Draco's parents. I couldn't. Their odd possessive streak — the way they still seemed to think I was Draco's — was more than I could handle at the moment, especially with thoughts of Draco and Astoria shagging running through my mind.

"That sounds lovely, Blaise. I had no idea you and Hermione spent the holiday together last year," Narcissa said, her voice lilting in a suggestive way.

Blaise looked her in the eyes and replied, "As you know, Hermione's parents live in Australia, and I wanted to take her somewhere that wasn't full of happily married couples. You know, a holiday of sorts. We've been friends for quite some time, and that friendship runs deep."

I was aware of all the eyes on us, of everyone watching as the Potters and Hermione Granger had a somewhat tense conversation with the elder Malfoys. We were drawing attention, and that was honestly the last thing I wanted.

Needing to escape, I turned to Blaise and asked if he wanted to dance. He happily obliged, politely excusing us and guiding me to the floor. Since I'd never been formally trained in ballroom dancing, my movements weren't flawless, but Blaise didn't seem to care. He led me around, one hand on my waist and the other clasped in mine, and we moved further and further away from the Malfoys as the steps progressed.

"Thank you for that. I don't understand them at all. They don't want me with their son, and now it seems like they don't want me with anyone else. It doesn't make a lick of sense," I sighed. "It's like they want me to keep waiting for him, and I can't do that, Blaise. I just can't."

Blaise just looked into my eyes. "Tesoro, I'm sorry that they behave this way. It's typical of them, realising what they've lost far too late. It's almost scary, honestly."

I thought about it that way, about the Malfoys looking at me and finding something worth having. I watched as Lucius doted on Narcissa, making sure she knew he only had eyes for her. He gave her everything I ever wanted from Draco — undivided attention, public displays of his love — and I wondered if he was like this with her before the war or if it was something new — a way to make amends for the past that had nearly torn them apart.

When my eyes moved back to Blaise, he seemed to know what I was thinking. "No, he wasn't always like this with her. Sure, he would've done anything to keep her safe, but he didn't always show his affections so openly. I'm sure you can guess what changed all of that."

"The war. Almost losing each other."

"Right on one count. I've also noticed a change in them, even in our limited interactions, since Scorpius was born. It changed Lucius a lot, actually," Blaise explained. "I think he's more concerned about family in general now than just his pure bloodline. That's when I noticed him getting more… interested in you, in why we were such close friends."

Thinking back, I could see it. Our interaction in Flourish and Blotts in February definitely supported that theory, and Narcissa had written to me not long after.

I actively tried to clear my mind, to banish all things Malfoy. I was here with Blaise, and I should be focused on him, not the family from hell.

"Let's not discuss them tonight," I said, hoping he'd follow my lead. "Let's discuss literally anything else."

With a laugh, Blaise replied, "Quidditch? What team will you be supporting in the upcoming season?"

I slapped at his chest with my free hand and laughed. "Okay, I should've been a little more specific, I suppose."

"I'll talk to you about anything, Tesoro. Just start talking, and my attention is all yours," he whispered. "And we can continue talking long into the night, once we're free of this awful party."

He reassured me like no one else ever had, and I was so very grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book quote Hermione references was taken from Mercy by Jodi Picoult.
> 
> Thank you to TriDogMom for the lovely aesthetic for this chapter! 
> 
> I know there are mixed feelings on Blaise - I was actually terrified and stopped working on the story for quite some time after this chapter because I hadn't intended to take it there. It just sort of happened while I was writing during NaNo.
> 
> The chapters are going to start getting closer together time-wise. And here's a hint - in April, we'll start seeing more of a week-to-week, day-to-day. There are two parts to December, two to January, and then two to March... so we're going to start focusing in a lot more instead of getting these snapshots of what's going on in their lives.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, and please reach out with questions or comments!


	14. December 2006, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. Lots of information. 
> 
> Mild trigger warning: We will see the night of Scorpius' conception, and Astoria's actions are very manipulative. I will add more detail to a note at the end if you're concerned. The whole memory of it is italicized within the chapter.

**Hermione — December 2006**

* * *

When the ball was over, Blaise took a Portkey from his pocket and held it out to me. Once I'd taken hold, he touched the tip of his wand to it, whisking us away to the very same hotel room we had stayed in the previous year. The sidelong glances and nosiness of the Malfoys had made me feel strange. Lucius and Narcissa were, by far, the most confusing, complex people I'd ever met in my life. I wished they would just leave me be — Draco was not in the picture anymore, and they had no reason to speak to me. Acting like I was doing something wrong by attending a function with Blaise was out of line.

Blaise pulled me close and lightly kissed my lips, coaxing my attention to him. "Tesoro, don't let them bother you. We don't have to speak with them ever again if you don't want to."

His lips felt foreign on mine, the memory of Draco polluting everything since his parents had haunted us for the majority of the night. Tentatively, I reciprocated the kisses, and his hands traveled the length of my back over and over again, soothing me. I stepped closer and placed one of my hands on his jaw and the other between us on his chest.

Breaking the kiss, he murmured, "You taste so sweet. How is that even possible?"

Looking up into his eyes — brown, not grey — I felt lost. I was terrified of being in this situation, in a hotel room with a man who wanted me. It had been such a long time, and I didn't know if it would be better to rush through everything or to take it slowly.

"I'm nervous," I admitted. "I don't know what I want, Blaise."

One arm pulled me flush against his body, tightly wrapping around my waist, and the other hand found its way into my hair, pulling it free of the style it had been twisted into. He tangled his fingers in my curls and kissed me more deeply, his tongue making its way into my mouth one gentle swipe at a time. We continued snogging this way for a few minutes, hands roaming from shoulders to hips to hair.

When we came up for air, he asked, "How does it feel when I kiss you, Hermione?"

_Terrifying. Good. Bad. Different. Arousing. Like I'm all you'll ever need, and I know I can't give you all of me._

"Good. Different. A little scary," I settled on, trying to keep it simple.

He smiled down at me. "There is no pressure here. I just… I want to kiss you, and hold you, and we can take it as slow as you need to."

_But I don't know if I'll ever be ready._

I nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. My hands moved to the fastenings of his dress robes and he pulled back, shocked. "Hermione…"

"I just want to touch you without ten different layers covering you. I'm not going to strip you naked, Blaise. I'm definitely not ready for that," I explained, and I heard my own voice shaking.

He shrugged the robes off, leaving him in a button-down shirt, a tie, and a pair of trousers. I grabbed the tie and pulled him back towards me. I felt his hand slide down my back, getting dangerously close to my backside. I was nervous, but I knew I had to try this with someone, and Blaise would never hurt me. I broke the kiss and looked up again.

"Touch me, Blaise. I'll stop you if I don't want you to," I whispered, and his hand moved lower, grabbing my arse.

Groaning, he started kissing me again. I felt him hardening against my stomach and something resembling arousal started coursing through my abdomen. It was a feeling that had been absent for over a year, and I wasn't prepared for it. Unlike with Draco, this was a slow burn, not the explosive breaking of tension after years.

The kissing continued, along with wandering hands and the occasional mouth moving from lips to neck to ear. Blaise's hands seemed to stay gripped on my hips or arse, not once venturing to my breasts. When we broke apart, we were panting, and I felt the desire that had been absent from my life for so long come to life inside me again. I wanted Blaise, wanted to take things further, but I knew I couldn't rush into it. This wasn't just a casual fling. Somewhere down the line, Blaise had developed serious feelings for me, and I didn't want to hurt him.

He looked down at me, his eyes dark with desire, and said, "We need to stop. I don't want this to be something we regret, Tesoro. I wouldn't be able to handle that."

I took a deep breath and stepped back from him. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to get so…"

"Heated?" Blaise answered, and I nodded. "You don't realise what you do to people, Hermione. Men especially. You're like the sun."

"The sun?"

"Yes. You're warm and you draw people in. But the closer you get to the sun, the hotter it gets. Before you know it, you're burning, and there's nothing you can do about it," he explained. "I love it. I love this feeling, love that you let me get closer to you, love that I can feel fire racing through my veins again."

I couldn't get enough air, panting and sucking in whatever I could. What Blaise had just said to me was… a lot. But it didn't make me feel uncomfortable or scared. It made me feel like everything I'd been telling myself for years was untrue. There were men out there — available, non-married men — who would be interested in taking a chance on me. I just had to let them get close enough.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said, "I'm not really sure how to respond to that."

"You don't have to," he stated, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "Now go get into those hideous pyjamas so I can stop thinking about ripping this gorgeous dress off of you."

I laughed and made my way into the bathroom, carrying my small handbag with me. I looked in the mirror and could see my cheeks were flushed, my lips were kiss-swollen, and my hair was a wreck from Blaise tugging at it. There was a faint love bite on the column of my throat. Remembering the last time I'd looked like this, guilt washed over me. The memory of Draco had surfaced, making me feel like I was being unfaithful. I took a deep breath and forcibly pushed _him_ out of my mind. It didn't matter that I wanted to be intimate with someone else — I was single. I had been single for years. Draco had never really claimed me as anything but his mistress, and he was not my boyfriend or fiancé or husband.

He was nothing but a memory.

I magically unzipped my dress and stepped out of it before surveying my body. I was still a bit too thin, but I was getting better. Under my bra, my nipples were hard, and I smiled a bit. I could still do this. My body could be brought to life by a man other than Draco. When I pulled my knickers off, that statement was confirmed further. I had been so worried that no one else would ever make me feel this way, so the relief that washed over me was entirely welcome.

Pulling on the pyjamas, I felt content. This could turn into something real, if I let it. If I didn't pull back because of my unresolved feelings for Draco. Deep down, I knew I couldn't let him get in the way.

_I deserve this. I deserve to have a man who will choose me — really choose me — and not just sneak around with me. I deserve to be happy and create my own family. I've earned it after all this time._

Looking in the mirror once more, I saw a confidence and determination that hadn't been there in a long time. More than a year. Maybe even more than a few years.

_Draco, I love you, but you were no good for me. If you'd wanted me, really wanted me, you wouldn't have gone through with the wedding. Or you would've found a way to get divorced. You certainly wouldn't have carried on sleeping with both Astoria and me. I'm done now. I'm walking away, and I'm hoping this new thing, whatever it is, will be worth it._

* * *

The next morning, as we just lazed in the huge bed, Blaise asked me what I wanted to do. We would be spending most of the day in Italy; dinner at Harry's wasn't until later in the evening and Blaise wasn't going to visit his mother. Feeling brave, I turned over and kissed him passionately, wanting to find out if the desire I'd felt last night had been real. He pulled me close, rolling onto his side and hooking my leg over his hip. His hand roamed up the back of my shirt, stroking my bare skin. It felt amazing and I wiggled ever closer, ending up flush against his body.

Breaking the kiss, he said, "What are we doing here, Hermione?"

"We're spending Christmas morning in bed, kissing and exploring," I replied, moving my foot up and down his back.

Blaise sighed. "You do realise I want to shag you into this mattress, right? I think I wanted to last year."

My heart stopped for a moment. _He'd wanted me for that long?_

"I do realise that, but I don't think I'm ready. Do you want to stop?"

"Fuck no, Tesoro. I love kissing you and touching you, just don't be surprised if I, uh, can't hold back my excitement."

I smirked at him and leaned in for yet another kiss, not wanting to stop the torture for Blaise or for myself. I knew he wanted to have sex. When he ground his erection against the apex of my thighs, I was fairly certain I wanted to, as well, but I knew it was too soon.

We carried on this way for a bit, grinding and kissing and leaving little reminders of where we'd been across each other's skin. It was wonderful, feeling his hands on me, worshipping me. He touched me almost reverently, like he couldn't believe I was allowing him to. And, as our kisses grew more sensual, my hands started wandering his body, too.

Deep down, I knew we probably should have been talking about our relationship, but I didn't want to stop touching him. I wanted to go with the flow and do what felt right in the moment. Talking would only complicate things between us, and I really didn't need that. For right now, I needed to feel the lust and experience the more superficial parts of a relationship. We already knew each other well and had a solid friendship as a foundation, so it felt right to focus on what was actually new.

* * *

Later that day, we walked alongside the main canal but, unlike last year, it wasn't so sad. Blaise held my hand, our fingers laced together and our arms swinging gently between us. This simple gesture, the small bit of contact, kept me grounded. There were both locals and tourists out strolling, and the weather was surprisingly mild.

"Are you hungry, Tesoro?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, not yet. Let's walk a bit more and then we'll get some lunch."

"Do you want to go to St. Mark's Square? Or shall we carry on to the Rialto Bridge?"

I smiled up at him and squeezed his hand in mine. "Wherever you want to go is fine, Blaise. I'm just enjoying the day."

Blaise pulled me off to the side, pressing me against a building. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on my lips, and I savoured it. This kiss didn't scare me like our first had or fill me with lust like the ones last night and this morning had. No, this one was different — it filled me with a warmth I'd somehow forgotten about. It wasn't quite lust or love, but it was something important, the beginning of something real. When his tongue swiped against my lips, I tentatively opened my mouth, allowing him entry. After a few moments, we were interrupted.

"Doomed! This whole relationship is doomed!" A tiny old woman who bore a striking resemblance to Professor Trelawney cried out, pointing a gnarled finger in our direction. "I've Seen it!"

The woman stepped closer, and I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

"Grazie, Signora," Blaise snapped. "We're fine here."

"You're not! She will break you," the woman replied, and I felt my heart squeeze. "She will fall in love with another, and you will be left to watch it all unfold again!"

Blaise visibly stiffened, likely feeling the same way I did.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him away. "You're a wicked woman!" she shouted as we retreated. "He's one of the good ones!"

_Was this crazy old bat a real Seer? What did she know?_

Blaise held my hand, though it felt a bit different now than it had earlier. I pulled him into an alcove and faced him. "That was scary, right?" I asked.

He let out a sigh. "She just voiced all of my worst fears, Hermione. I don't mean to act differently, but I'm terrified this—" he gestured between us "—won't work out. Now that I've kissed you…"

"I didn't go into this with the aim of it not working out, Blaise. I'm scared I'll hurt you, too. I'm going to try my hardest not to," I answered, hoping that we weren't simply going to end at the very beginning.

_And, since it was the very beginning, why was I so afraid of losing him already?_

"I know, Tesoro," he began, taking me in his arms and stroking a hand over my hair. "But I need one thing from you."

"Anything," I answered. "Anything you want, Blaise."

Letting out a sigh, he said, "If he ever finds out about the Obliviation, you can't just immediately give up on us. I don't think you'll leave me unless Draco wants you back. So, if it happens, please, I'm begging you — make sure you think about it before you make a decision."

"I wouldn't just give up on you! I've thought about this very seriously. But honestly, I haven't seen him since it happened, Blaise. How would he ever find out?"

"Lucius," he stated. "He feels guilty, which you know. He only seems to be getting worse over time."

 _If Lucius tells Draco the truth, I swear to Merlin, I will_ Avada _him. If he caused us all this much pain for no reason at all…_

I squeezed him tighter. "I doubt that will happen, Blaise. Plus, you know Draco. If he finds out, he's going to—"

"Completely destroy everyone who knew about it or was involved in it," Blaise interrupted. "And what do you think he'll do when he finds out we're together, Hermione? He'll think I encouraged you to do it so I could have you to myself."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Let's not worry about that right now, Blaise. I sincerely doubt that Draco will ever find out about the Obliviation. Can we just… be happy? Can we pretend we never saw that old woman and get back to enjoying our holiday?"

Blaise kissed me softly. "I like the way you think, love."

_Love. He called me love._

I kissed back, still enjoying the feeling of whatever this was — this new relationship — the transition from friend to boyfriend feeling easier this time around than it had with Ron.

* * *

We found a small restaurant and got a table. We were both in casual clothing, jumpers and dark jeans, and we looked like a typical Muggle couple. My hand rested on the table and Blaise reached across to grab it, pulling it into the centre of the table and covering it with his own. I smiled at him shyly, unused to these public displays. While Draco and I had been free to partake in these simple touches in other countries, we were usually overly cautious, just in case a reporter managed to recognise us. In public, we appeared to be just friends, or coworkers, or anything but lovers, really.

Slowly savouring our meal, we chatted about everything — the war, our families, our friends. I told him about James's latest favorite books and foods, about Sev's upcoming first birthday party.

"Yes, I was invited to the party," Blaise began. "Do you think… Should we go, you know, together?"

I laughed. "Blaise, it's a child's birthday party. I don't really think it would be the ideal place for a date."

"Okay, but are you open to going on a date after the party?" he asked.

"Aren't we on a date now?"

He shrugged. "I guess so. I meant in England. Would you be willing to go on a date with me back at home? Where people will see us and we'll likely be photographed for the _Prophet_?"

I considered his words, trying to figure out how I felt about the idea. "We went to the Ministry's Holiday Ball, Blaise. I know we were photographed there."

Narrowing his eyes at me, he said, "Hermione, you know for a fact that it's very different to be seen on a dinner date, or out and about in Diagon Alley, than it is to be photographed at a Ministry function together. Especially since we both work at the bloody Ministry."

I laughed and tried to reassure him I'd be fine going on a date with him. When I'd finally made myself clear, he just grinned at me and said he was actually looking forward to Sev's birthday now.

* * *

Before we took the Portkey back to England, Blaise made sure to kiss me soundly. We knew we'd have to keep our hands, and mouths, to ourselves at Grimmauld Place unless we wanted to face a barrage of questions, and I wasn't ready for that. Hell, if I couldn't bring myself to shag the man yet, I wasn't going to argue with our friends about whether or not this was a good idea.

"I'm going to want to do that all night," he said, leaning his forehead against mine. "I know we're waiting to tell everyone, but I'm going to miss kissing you. Especially since we're going to be in the same bloody house."

"I'm sure that Pansy will be on to us very soon," I laughed, bringing my hands to his cheeks. I tilted my face up and pecked his lips once more before asking, "Does this feel real to you?"

Blaise shook his head. "Not yet. It's only been a few days, Hermione. It won't be real for me until I'm sure you're here with me."

_I'm trying. I'll get there. Please wait for me. I think this could really be something._

I hugged him as tightly as I could, and he dropped a kiss on the top of my head. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Blaise."

With a teasing tone, he said, "I hope we're back here next year, and we finally get to shag in that damn hotel bed."

The Portkey glowed, but before it whisked us away, I replied, "Me too. I like this tradition we've started."

The words came so easily, and I just couldn't stop them. I really meant them. The look on his face was adorable, and I laughed as we were carried back to the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_It's hard to believe I started writing these letters a year ago. Things have changed so much, and it's all been for the better. As hard as it was, I think I needed everything to fall to pieces so I could rebuild myself. I had forgotten who I was without you, and I think I've finally figured it out again. I'm Hermione Granger — warrior, swot, independent woman. But I'm also Hermione Granger — friend, godmother, researcher. There are so many parts of me, and I can see them all now that I'm not completely tangled up in you. I got so lost for so long, but I think I'm finally on the right path._

_And now I have to tell you something._

_I'm with Blaise. We're together, in a relationship, he's my boyfriend… whatever. I've snogged him, but we've not had sex yet. He wants to wait, to make sure I'm feeling secure in the relationship. He knows that you and I were very complicated in this department, that we built our whole relationship around having sex especially, and he doesn't want to do that. I understand what he's saying, but I'm really, really having a hard time waiting._

_If you remembered our history, I have no doubt you'd be at my door, begging me to let you in. Reminding me that I was yours, that I said I loved you. You did that once, you know. I'd tried to break things off with you and locked you out, and you stayed out there until I let you in. Our relationship really wasn't all that healthy sometimes when I truly think about it. But that's the thing, Draco. It was never really a true relationship, and I was never really yours. I couldn't be, because you had Astoria. You have her now. You're happy with her, according to your father._

_I can't believe that it's been nearly fifteen months since I've seen you in person. Sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday. However, more often than not now, it feels like a lifetime ago. My post-war story has three distinct parts — before Draco, Draco, and after Draco. We're almost to a point where the time after you is equivalent to the time with you, and that's supposed to be the appropriate amount of time to mourn the loss of a relationship. I think I read that somewhere ridiculous like Witch Weekly._

_Anyway, this will likely be my last entry. Like I've said before, it's time to get on with my life, and I can't do that if I spend hours writing to you every week. I need to focus on my career again and whatever this is with Blaise. It doesn't feel wrong, and I want it to be right. I want it to be right more than I can ever express because he's honestly been the one who's held me together when I really needed it. Plus, he meshes well with the family I've chosen for myself. Pansy has been practically begging me to give him a chance and Harry will be swayed by her opinion, I'm sure. Ron will definitely take some convincing — he told me I need a nice Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff bloke — but I've never listened to him, anyway. There's no point in starting now._

_So, in a way, this is goodbye. I remember you, everything about you, but I can't keep holding on to you. You're gone. You've been gone for over a year, and I need to do this for me. I deserve to move on and be happy, even if what I did to you was really wrong. I still regret it, regardless of the way I feel about Blaise. I never should have been so cowardly. I should've just put my foot down and left you, but every time I did that it never lasted long._

_I'll love you everyday, Draco, from now until the end of time. I hope your life is full of so much love and happy memories, ones that you will get to hold on to forever. I want that for both of us. While I'll always wish we could've had a life together, I don't fault anyone for it anymore. If I had a Time-Turner, I think I'd go back to the Leaky on the night of your stag party and make myself leave the pub. We would've avoided so much pain and heartache if I'd never stumbled to your room that night and, as much as I love you, we were never meant to be. That much was apparent from the time we met at age eleven._

_Hermione xx_

* * *

**Astoria — December 2006**

* * *

I stared at the society page of the Daily Prophet with wide eyes, not believing what I was seeing. Lucius and Narcissa were standing in a group with Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Hermione Granger. Blaise's arm was wrapped possessively around Hermione's waist, and it was easy to see that Lucius was perturbed by this seemingly new development. Below that photo, there was another of Blaise and Hermione leaving the ball together, their fingers entwined. She smiled up at him when he said something, and she looked happy. This was one development I had never expected. Why in the name of Merlin would she take up with Draco's best friend?

It was Christmas Day and I'd had a pleasant enough morning. Draco and I had made love before Scorpius had woken, and I'd begged him to let me forego the contraceptive. I wanted another child, another tie to bind him to me forever. I wanted to give him a family — a big family — one he would always choose. Despite the love I thought I felt forming between us, I was still very worried that he would eventually run into Hermione and choose her all over again.

And if she was with Blaise, she would be in our orbit. Whenever we went to a function or even hosted one, she would be invited, and it seemed like Lucius and Narcissa were friendly with her now. As long as she wouldn't be the one birthing the heir, she was probably a suitable companion. With a sigh, I set the paper down, still staring at the way she looked on Blaise's arm. Her gown was lovely, the golden lace shimmering, reminding me again that she really was just that — the Golden Girl, the Brightest Witch.

I had won in the end, so I didn't know why I still felt this sickening jealousy. When I looked at Hermione Granger, I should be happy. She was the kind of witch I would want my daughter to be if I had one. She was fierce and hardworking, the furthest thing from a spoiled pureblood princess. But when I looked at her, all I could see was my husband's ideal woman, the one I could never quite measure up to. Yes, I was likely considered more classically beautiful than her, but she was the grand prize in this new society.

Draco walked into the room with Scorpius and set him down in his highchair before heading over to the godforsaken Muggle coffee pot that sat on our counter. I'd already brewed the foul drink, so he poured himself a cup. When he sat down beside me, his eyes immediately darted to the paper.

"I see my mother and father were busy schmoozing last night," he remarked, and I waited for him to notice whose arm Hermione Granger was on. A split second later… "Is that Blaise with Granger again?"

"It is," I said. "It looks like they're a couple now. I wonder if they're well-suited."

Draco scoffed. "Of course they're not, Astoria. She's Hermione fucking Granger. Do you really think Blaise is smart enough for her?"

_Just the same as he's ever been… No one is ever good enough for her._

"Actually, I do. They work together in the DMLE, after all. He had the same job that you did, Draco."

Draco grabbed the paper and examined the photos closely, a faraway look in his eyes. "They look happy together," he observed. "She's smiling a lot, even while talking to my parents. I'm sure that wasn't an easy conversation for her."

_Oh, if you only knew…_

"It can't have been," I agreed, hoping to end the conversation more quickly.

Scorpius started banging his tiny fists on the highchair tray, pulling Draco's focus away from the newspaper. When he placed it back on the table, I grabbed it, taking it away. I couldn't watch him stare at her again. For the millionth time since we'd married nearly three years ago, I wished I knew Legilimency so I could read his thoughts.

Draco summoned the house-elf to bring breakfast from the Manor kitchens and our day continued. I hoped he would soon forget he'd even seen the photos of his parents with Blaise and Hermione. I'm sure his mind was racing and trying to remember things that simply weren't there anymore.

Before long, he'd likely grow frustrated and move on like he always did.

* * *

We exchanged gifts and then got ready to head to the Manor. Draco took me in the shower, brutally shagging me into the tiled wall with passion I'd never really felt from him before, and I found myself wondering if he was thinking of her while he was deep inside me.

I really hoped not, though I could see them shagging like this in my mind. I was sure the first time was like this, like an argument, loud and passionate and screaming themselves hoarse. After a decade of tension and fighting a war on opposite sides, it couldn't have been the slow, sweet kind of sex.

When Draco was close to orgasm, he tried to grip my arse but I didn't have much to speak of back there, always leaning more towards willowy than curvy. He groaned and said, "Have you come, Astoria? I'm close."

I hadn't, but I also knew there was no chance of it for me. Not while my mind was spiraling, fixated on the thought of how he'd first fucked her. And so I lied, telling him that yes, I'd come. It had just been the quiet, rolling kind of orgasm rather than the screaming explosion he usually pulled from me. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me as he came, sucking hard on my lower lip and his fingers pressing bruises into my hips.

* * *

When we arrived at the Manor, Lucius and Narcissa were waiting in the entrance hall. Draco was carrying Scorpius and being kicked unceremoniously. Placing the baby on the floor, he said, "Look at what he can do."

Scorpius rose on shaky legs and took a few steps towards his grandparents, and Narcissa squealed. "Oh, Draco, he's walking!"

She dropped to the floor, kneeling in the most unladylike way to be on Scorpius's level. I saw Draco looking at her with a perplexed look on his face, likely wondering if his mother had ever done this when he was a child. Narcissa was smiling widely by the time her grandson reached her. Hugging him close, she looked so young again, like Scorpius could be her son.

Of course, everyone knew Narcissa had lied to Voldemort to try to find Draco during the Battle of Hogwarts. Her love for her son was nearly legendary at this point, and Scorpius was the spitting image of Draco.

"Astoria. Draco," Lucius greeted. "Happy Christmas."

Draco nodded. "Thank you, Father. Likewise."

Stiff as always, the eldest Malfoy man informed me that my parents had owled to say they'd be late since they were spending the first half of the day with Daphne and her family. This was, unfortunately, the way of the purebloods. The wives spent the holidays with their husband's family. I nearly felt jealous of Pansy Parkinson for having the freedom to do what she liked since she'd married Harry Potter.

No, the rest of my holidays would be spent at Malfoy Manor. When I looked over at Draco, he was watching me carefully. I knew I'd been lost in my thoughts a lot today, and he was likely noticing.

"Are you okay, Stori?"

_I will be. I will be fine as long as I have you. Even if I hate this bloody Manor, your father, Hermione fucking Granger… I will be fine if you and Scorpius are with me._

I gave him a weak smile. "I'm just tired, Draco. It's been a wonderful holiday so far."

Moving to my side, he looped an arm around my shoulder, holding me close so he could lean down and kiss my temple. "I'll let you sleep tonight then," he whispered in my ear. "I didn't mean to keep you up so late celebrating Scorp's first Christmas."

I genuinely laughed, letting him believe that was the truth, when in fact I'd been up far later than that wondering about the holiday ball Lucius had forbade me from attending.

"Well, thank you for the offer, but you don't have to do that if you don't want to," I teased.

Walking down the hallway towards the main sitting room, where the elegantly decorated Christmas tree was located, he pinched my side, and I found myself relaxing.

I let myself hope that playful banter and the promise of more sex was certainly a reason to believe things were really okay between us.

* * *

Before the end of the night, Lucius pulled me into his study under the guise of asking about my plans for Scorpius's first birthday. Draco had started to follow me but I waved him away, telling him to make sure Scorpius was changed and ready to head home. I knew Lucius would be talking about _her_ — she was the only topic we ever discussed on our own and he had given me a pointed look.

"You saw the _Prophet_ this morning, yes?" he asked, not even pretending he really wanted to know about the birthday party.

Glaring at him, I answered, "How could I have missed it? You two were standing there with her and Blaise like it was nothing!"

"Keep your voice down," he scolded. "It _was_ nothing, Astoria. We went over to say hello and the Potters joined us. It's not like we were inviting them to Christmas tea!"

"So are they together now?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my abdomen.

Lucius nodded. "They wouldn't give a straight answer, but I think so. They were very comfortable together and apparently left for Venice after the ball."

My fears confirmed, I felt tears welling in my eyes.

"So she's going to be around then?" I asked, praying Lucius would say he wouldn't allow her to come to the Manor or to any of the functions we were involved in. However, I knew that would never be the case — the Malfoys couldn't be seen blacklisting a Muggle-born war heroine.

"It appears so, though it's not like Blaise has been spending much time here since the Obliviation. He's been too busy chasing Draco's leftovers," he said with disgust. "Honestly, it's like he has no manners at all, going after the woman his best friend was in love with."

I sucked in a loud breath, his words wounding me, even if I'd already known.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Astoria. It's not like you were unaware. I'm guessing you even had your suspicions he was interested in someone else before you married," he hissed, and I could tell he'd been drinking. His attitude was always much more antagonistic when he was drunk. "And I'm sure it was fairly obvious when you found out about the eighteen months he was shagging her behind your back!"

I felt the tears escape and quickly brushed them away. "Obviously I know, Lucius! Do you think this is easy for me? I don't want her around again. We're just starting to be a proper couple, and if she's turning up everywhere—"

"It's not like we're going to start inviting them for weekly dinners, Astoria. You'll see them from time to time at functions. They're not working together or anything like that again. I don't think you have much to worry about as long as you keep spreading your pretty little thighs for him. Maybe you should take another fertility potion," he snarled.

_What a right foul bastard! Who speaks to his own family this way?_

Channeling Draco's dream woman, I stood as straight as possible and met Lucius's eyes. "That potion, what I did… it gave you your grandson. Your precious pureblood Malfoy heir. If Draco does stray again, I won't stay with him, Lucius. I won't be an afterthought ever again. Be grateful that I've already ensured the continuation of your clean bloodline."

With that statement, I spun and walked out of the room, leaving my father-in-law gaping at my back. I nearly ran into the small washroom and started cleaning up, trying to hide my obvious upset before I reached Scorpius and Draco.

I thought back to the night Scorpius was conceived, my body flooding with the embarrassment and desperation I'd felt then.

_Since the moment we'd taken our seat at the restaurant, Draco had been twitchy, constantly checking his watch and hardly speaking to me. When he'd arrived home from work, I'd been dressed and ready to go out. He smiled at me half-heartedly and told me I looked beautiful as always, but he showed no enthusiasm for our date._

_I knew why, of course. He was rarely home on Friday nights, preferring to spend the better part of the weekend in bed with his mistress. The Golden Trollop, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Ignored. It was obvious that he was itching to get to her, that he was planning on spending the night in her bed, not mine._

_With every glance at his watch, my resolve grew. I'd had the fertility potion in my stores for two months, and tonight would be the perfect time to use it. If he wouldn't stop sleeping with her for me, he'd do it for an heir, to keep his family together._

_It would be easy to get pregnant if I could convince him to join me in bed._

_A plan started to form in my head — Merlin knew the conversation wasn't holding my full attention — and I knew what I'd do as soon as we entered our house._

_"Wait for me," I said, batting my eyelashes at him. "I got you a gift, but I want you to open it here."_

_Draco looked wary. "That wasn't necessary, Astoria."_

_I smiled. "Just wait here. Don't get undressed or anything."_

_Moving into our en suite bathroom, I quickly removed my dress and swallowed the potion. I'd worn sexy enough undergarments — a white lace bra and matching knickers — and they seemed fitting for a wedding anniversary shagfest. I thought of our honeymoon, of the way he touched me before_ she _started spreading her legs for him. My skin flushed and my nipples pulled tight._

_As I ran a hand over my flat stomach, I smiled, feeling the tiny pinches of pain that signalled I was likely ovulating. I prayed to Merlin I didn't end up pregnant with multiples, but if I did, I'd find a way to live with it._

_When I walked back into the bedroom, his eyes widened, taking in my nearly nude form. I knew I had a body that most witches envied, that I caught admiring glances from other wizards, but Draco was the one person whose eyes I wanted on me._

_And he never looked._

_"Draco, I want you to come to bed with me," I said, closing the gap between us. "I need you."_

_He tried to step back, but I grabbed his tie, holding him in place. "Astoria, I—"_

_"No," I interrupted, stopping him. "You are not going back to work tonight. You're not leaving me alone on our anniversary night."_

_His throat bobbed. "I have to. I need to—"_

_Shaking my head, I said, "Go owl Potter and tell him to get off his arse, Draco. Or Blaise. Or anyone. We haven't had sex in over six months."_

_"It hasn't been that long," he replied. "There's no way—"_

_"August. My birthday. That was the last time."_

_He paled. "I really… I can't—"_

_"You can. And you will. I don't deserve to come second," I told him. "As a matter of fact, I have every intention of coming first tonight."_

_An internal struggle was taking place behind his eyes, but he finally nodded, relenting._

_"I didn't realise it had been so long. I'm so sorry, Astoria. I just need to send an owl," he said quietly, guilt and remorse filling his eyes. "I'll be right back, and we'll have the whole night together. I've… missed you."_

As I wiped my eyes, I looked in the mirror and tried to forget how he'd looked at me that night. Pity and remorse and pain in his eyes. I'd manipulated him into fucking me multiple times, and I'd gotten pregnant, achieving part of my goal. But then he hadn't chosen us — Scorpius and me. He'd kept sleeping with her, spending all his free time with her.

Thinking of how we'd spent our day, I calmed a bit. Even if he had looked at her in the paper or if she'd be coming around again, he wanted me now. We had a bond that hadn't been present before. If he was attracted to her, that was fine. I understood that it would never really go away.

I just hoped he wouldn't act on it since he felt some sense of love and loyalty to me now.

Gathering the last bit of my courage, I walked out and said my goodbyes, pointedly ignoring Lucius and grabbing Draco's hand as we stepped into the Floo.

When we got home, we settled Scorpius into his cot and headed for our bedroom. I took my time in the bathroom, brushing my hair out and changing into a long satin nightgown. As I looked at myself in the mirror again, I made a decision. I would either be enough, or I wouldn't. I wouldn't force Draco into having another child, especially since his father apparently looked down on me for doing it the first time. Honestly, it had been a desperate attempt to save my marriage — a marriage Draco had never been happy in. If I was honest with myself, I hadn't been happy, either.

_Am I happy now? Was it all worth it? I love my son. I love my husband and it seems like he loves me now, even if our relationship is all built on lies. Scorpius makes everything worth it and Draco, if he stays indefinitely, he's worth it, too. I can live with these doubts. I can live with Lucius blaming everything on me, as long as I have them._

When I exited the bathroom, Draco stood from the bed and took me into his arms, kissing me passionately. I savoured it, holding on to him as tightly as I could.

_Please don't fall in love with her if you start seeing her around again. Please don't leave me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Astoria takes a fertility potion and essentially manipulates/guilts Draco into having sex with her since they hadn't in over six months. I am not labeling this as non-con/dub-con because Draco still has the power to say no if he really wants to. The scene is brief and the smut is not shown.
> 
> Okay. I'm ready. Let's hear it. lol
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading - your comments and messages brighten my day, even when you're mad at me.


	15. Hermione - January 2007

On the day of Severus's birthday party, I arrived at Grimmauld Place early to help set up. I'd spent the morning thinking about another birthday party likely going on the same day and it had my stomach churning with nerves. It didn't help that I was also going to tell Harry and Pansy about Italy… and Blaise.

It had been three weeks since Christmas and Blaise and I had been seeing each other a few nights a week. We hadn't gone out in public yet, but we would tonight, and I wanted to tell my friends first. This also included telling Ron, and I wasn't looking forward to that at all.

When I stepped through the Floo, Harry was in the living room with the boys, trying to keep them amused. James immediately ran to me, screeching, "Auntie Mi!"

I scooped him up and kissed both of his cheeks, making him laugh. "Auntie Mi, play with me?"

"I need to help your mum setup, but I promise I will come down and play with you later," I whispered and he nodded, smiling as I set him down.

Harry hugged me, passing Severus off. I held him close. "And happy birthday to you, little man! One already!"

"I can't believe it. And I can't believe I'll have another one in six months or so," Harry said.

Spinning quickly to face him, I asked, "Really?"

A blush rose to his cheeks. "Your birthday party."

_I'll have to tell Luna she was right about that. She'll be so pleased._

"Congratulations!" I replied, hugging Harry tight, squishing the birthday boy between us. When I set Sev down, his little legs wobbled for a moment and then he started walking on his own. I was amazed at how fast he'd grown. Again, I thought of another child with the same birthday who was likely walking now, too.

Harry gave me a meaningful look. "You look good, Hermione. Almost happy again."

Taking a deep breath, I said, "I think I'm finally getting there. I know it's taken a long time, but I'm doing well right now. I actually wanted to talk to you and Pansy about something."

"Pansy's down in the kitchen. If you grab Sev, I'll grab James, and we can head down there," he replied.

I scooped Sev up in my arms, kissing his cheeks and making him laugh. His smile made me grin widely. When we walked into the kitchen, Pansy was directing a couple of hired house-elves to do the cooking.

"Not a word, Granger. The very thought of food is making me nauseous this morning. I needed someone to do the cooking for me."

"Whose elves are these?" I asked.

"Daphne's. I've borrowed them before. They're happy to do it since she and Michael don't have children yet."

_Astoria's sister. Of course, Daphne and Michael are likely at Malfoy Manor today for Scorpius' birthday…_

Shaking my head to focus on the conversation at hand again, I looked to Pansy and said, "I heard congratulations are in order a third time."

"This is the last bloody time, too. No more after this. I'm having them put a stop to it so I can enjoy… you know, without worrying about the potion or charm failing," Pansy stated firmly.

Laughing, I decided to just rip the plaster off. "So, I have something to tell you guys."

Harry's face blanched. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Why in the name of Merlin would you think that, Harry? Does it seem like I've been out shagging blokes left and right?"

A look of relief crossed his face until Pansy chimed in, "No, not left and right, but I think there's something going on. You could be shagging _one_ bloke."

"None of that yet. And should we really be saying this word in front of James?"

Pansy smiled widely, quickly picking up on the _yet_ I'd slipped in there. "So there is someone! Don't try to deflect, Granger. Tell us now."

Harry focused on me, likely expecting me to say I was doing something horrible, like sleeping with another married bloke. Deciding to put him out of his misery, I said, "Blaise and I are going on a date after the party."

I was met with silence and started to worry. After a moment, Pansy ordered Harry out of the room so we could talk, telling him he'd just be a hindrance until I was properly sorted out by her. With a sigh, he took the boys with him, his mind likely spinning all kinds of scenarios about work.

Pansy gestured for me to sit across the table from her. "So when did all this start? I thought I felt something different between you two at Christmas, but I didn't want to assume anything, and you didn't touch much while you were here."

"I — Well, I'm not actually sure where or when it started. He told me he had feelings for me on my birthday. He was afraid I was going to leave with Theo or someone else," I admitted. "But for me… Sometime between then and Christmas? I couldn't make up my mind. I'd had a good time dancing with him on my birthday and things just seemed normal after that, so I was worried that nothing had really changed."

Pansy smirked. "So what was the catalyst?"

"I was going to ask him to the ball, and when I went out into the department, he was chatting up one of the younger girls," I replied. "I was kind of a bitch and made him come to my office. I said I wanted to have 'several words' with him because I was so flustered. When we finally started talking, I told him I was going to ask him to the ball but I could see he likely had other plans."

Reaching for her glass of pumpkin juice, she snorted. "I'm sure he corrected you quickly."

"Yeah, he did. He walked around my desk, hugged me, and wouldn't let go when I tried to pull away." I could hear myself rambling, but it just wouldn't stop. "He kissed me, and it was like the whole world had slowed down. I freaked out a little, and he said, 'It's just a kiss, not a marriage proposal' or something like that, then kissed me again."

"And how did it feel?" Pansy asked.

Pausing to think for a moment, I summoned the orange juice and poured myself a glass. "It was different, but not bad. I was scared since it was the first time I'd kissed anyone but Draco in years."

"Understandable. So you agreed to go to the ball together and then he took you to Venice," she prompted.

"Yeah, that's how it went," I said.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at me. "So did you sleep with him in Italy? Is that why you were so weird together at Christmas?"

"No!" I squeaked. "No, we just spent a lot of time making out and doing some… ah… light touching. He doesn't want me to rush into anything." Pansy made a small 'hmm' sound. "I mean, I'm not even sure if I'm ready. I certainly felt desire when we were together, but how am I supposed to know when the right time for all of that is? I'm not going to know if I'm ready or not until we've actually moved beyond over the clothes touching, and he won't even do that right now and I don't understand why—"

Laughing, Pansy cut me off. "It sounds like you're ready for more with him. I understand why he's afraid, though, Hermione. He's probably wanted this for years, and he's afraid you'll run, regardless of whether you enjoy it or not. We all know your brain is going to compare him to Draco in every way."

_It's true. I know it's true, even if I don't want it to be._

"But let me say one thing to you, and try not to get scared. I'm looking out for Blaise, especially because I couldn't do it for Draco. This relationship, it's a big deal. I'm willing to bet he started to fall in love with you when you were with Draco. It's been a big buildup for him, waiting for you to end things and then get better. He's been through the ringer just as much as you have. Are you ready to put your all into something new?"

"I'm not sure," I confessed. "But it feels… right with him. The kissing, the easy touching, the companionship. I'm still afraid, though, and I'm not always certain why."

"Blaise terrifies you because you know you could fall in love with him," Pansy said. "He could be it for you and then this whole messy affair with Draco is truly over. Blaise could make you happy, and I know the feeling you have. It's terrifying because what happens if it goes away again?"

Everything she was saying was accurate. If I let Blaise in and he made me happy, I wouldn't know what to do if it ever ended. My heart was nearly back together, and a lot of that was because of Blaise, Harry, and Pansy's support throughout the past year. What if this relationship ended? Would they all abandon me?

Pansy placed a reassuring hand over mine. "Listen, I know the feeling. Do you think it was easy for me to accept that I had fallen for Harry? He was relentless when he decided he wanted me, but I felt like I didn't deserve him, like I didn't deserve to be happy with him after what I'd done on the day of the final battle. But Hermione, everyone deserves to be happy. I was right pissed at you when I found out what you did to Draco, but every time I look at my boys, I get it. I still think it was wrong, but I get it. You wanted Scorpius to have his father's full attention, and if the two of you had carried on, Draco would've been splitting his time between his family and you still."

I couldn't bring myself to say anything, and it seemed unnecessary anyway. I wasn't going to dispute anything she'd said so far. I just listened to her analyse me.

"I wish you'd had the strength to walk away from him, but I know how Draco is. I know how hard he is to let go of, and I had only fallen into bed with him as a teenager, Hermione. On top of that, he wouldn't have wanted to let you go, and Salazar knows he's a possessive little git." She paused, taking a deep breath. "Just be sure with Blaise, please. He's available and he doesn't open himself up often. I don't think you really know that because he's so extroverted, but the way he's formed a bond with you… that's rare for him," she finished, and I still didn't know what to say.

Knowing I needed to answer, I went with, "I think I'm sure. There's no way to be a hundred percent certain, but I feel like I'm finally ready to move on."

Pansy smiled. "Good. I'm glad. You deserve to be happy, Hermione. I just, I wish there was a way for you to see Draco before you decide. I know you haven't crossed paths this whole time."

"I'm not sure if that would've helped or hurt me, Pansy. I had a hard enough time when I saw his photos in the paper, nevermind seeing him in person."

When she looked straight at me, I could see her concern. "I know, but what are you going to feel like when it finally does happen? And, if it goes badly, what will that do to you and Blaise?"

"You're the one who encouraged me to start something with Blaise on my birthday! Or are you forgetting that now?"

Pansy put her fingers to her temples and rubbed small circles. "I know. And I do think it'll be brilliant, but right now, I'm just worried. I wanted to give you a nudge, but I expected it would take longer than it did, and now I've got all these lovey-dovey pregnancy hormones raging through me and they make me worry more than usual."

I supposed it was a good thing that she cared enough about Blaise to be worried about him. Over the past few years, it seemed like I had so much going on all the time that I barely noticed what was going on in his life. Draco had consumed me — consumed my every waking thought — and I barely had the time or space for anyone else. As awful as that sounded, it was true. And, when I started working on myself, I also worked on my relationships with Harry and Ron. It left Blaise in limbo — we were friends, and he was always there for me, but I didn't really know what he'd been through.

"I'm just realising I've been a horrible friend to Blaise," I blurted. "He knows everything about me, everything that's happened to me over the past three years, but I've barely…"

"Barely even noticed his moods or what's going on with him?" she prompted.

"Yeah. I just — things got so complicated with Draco."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Understatement of the century, Granger. Blaise hasn't really done much of anything. He's made himself available for you whenever you need him, thrown himself into work, and gone on a few odd dates. I think his mother got married once, maybe twice. I can't remember that timeline."

Laughing, I said, "It's fine. I'm going to talk to him about all of that tonight and apologise for being a terrible friend."

As if we'd cued them, Harry and Blaise entered the room, holding James and Sev. I stood, moving towards Blaise, and he smiled at me. I leaned in and kissed Sev on the cheek, earning myself a glare. "I know you've told them, Hermione. Potter has already given me the big brother lecture."

Laughing, I gave him a peck on the lips. "Good morning."

"Good morning. I'm looking forward to this evening," he said.

I felt my cheeks heat a bit and I grabbed Sev, using him as a shield. "I am, too."

"Enough," Harry interrupted. "I'm happy for you both, but we need to set some rules for this."

I dropped Sev to my hip and looked over at him. "You're joking, right?"

"No. There will be no office… shenanigans. Nothing at work, please," Harry began. "Also, please keep me in the loop. If things get tense between you for any reason, I need to know about it."

Blaise crossed his arms over his chest. "I was planning on courting her properly, Potter. That doesn't involve doing those things in the office. Especially at first."

Pansy laughed, breaking the tension, and James giggled. He kicked at Harry. "Dad, Auntie Mi!"

Harry and I swapped children and I tossed James into the air, shaking him up and making him laugh. "I can't believe little Sev is one!" I sang out. "He's getting so big. Are you ready to be a big brother again?"

James was laughing uncontrollably and I set him on the floor, tickling his ribs. He wiggled away, running and hiding behind Pansy. "Mum! Please make her stop!"

Blaise chuckled and moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and dropping a kiss on my neck. "I'm so glad I can do this now," he whispered. "Christmas was torture. I wanted to touch you all day."

His words sent heat racing through my body, and I wanted him to touch me more. Now.

His lips still beside my ear, he continued, "I can't wait to take you out tonight and then get you alone so I can kiss you within an inch of your life, Tesoro. I need that. I need your lips."

I could feel my face getting hot and Pansy was smirking over the rim of her glass, clearly enjoying that Blaise was flustering me right in front of her. His hands dropped down to my hips and I turned around, facing him. "You, Zabini, are absolutely horrible. We have a whole party and then a date to get through! Whispering things like that in my ear… that's just rude."

James stood beside us, looking up, and said, "Kiss!"

With a grin, Blaise looked down at him and said, "Don't mind if I do, mini Potter."

He gave me a gentle kiss with no heat and James clapped. Pansy stood from the table and grabbed James. "Harry, let's give these two a moment."

"Pansy, that's really not necessary! The elves are working and—"

She rolled her eyes. "Go up to your old bedroom then. It's clear Blaise can't keep his hands to himself right now."

Blaise looked down at me and nodded. "It's true. I want to—"

I slapped a hand over his mouth. "Stop. Now. We'll go upstairs where no one can hear any of your wants, since I'm sure they fall into the 'not appropriate for little ears' category."

When we had closed the door to my bedroom, Blaise spun me and pinned me against the door with his body. His lips met mine violently, his tongue demanding entry into my mouth. The heat that I'd been worried we were lacking was certainly present in this kiss; my toes curled and I squeezed his arse, pulling him closer. He reached down and grabbed my thighs, lifting me and pressing his hardening cock against my core.

I moaned and he rocked into me. "That is a sweet fucking sound," he said, breaking the kiss. "I want to hear it over and over again. I want to hear you come and scream my name."

I was wet — absolutely drenched for him — and I almost let my body take the reins. But I was still nervous. Over the clothes touching, heated kisses — they were one thing. Actually stripping down and getting naked was another, and I thought of Draco. The way I was pressed into the door, it was so much like my first time with him that I panicked. Blaise rocked against me again and I pushed him away.

"I can't. Not like this," I said, squirming until he let me down. I quickly moved to the other side of the room and he didn't follow me.

Blaise looked horrified. "Hermione, what's wrong? What did I do?"

"Nothing," I replied. "It's not you. It's me. I just, I can't. Not like that and definitely not the first time. It needs to be different. It can't be like it was with—"

"With him," he answered, cutting me off. "I never asked for specifics. I didn't realise… I wasn't going to try to have sex with you, Hermione. Our first time won't be against a door in Potter's house."

I took a deep breath and exhaled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak out. I liked what we were doing, but then I had a flashback or something, and I'm sorry. I promise I was there with you. My brain is just…"

I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't have to. Blaise knew me. He knew how my brain worked, where my mind was most times. He took a tentative step forward and I nodded, signalling I was fine if he came to me. I didn't want to freeze him out, even if I was giving him some mixed signals at the moment.

"He's stuck there. I know, love. Please try not to worry about it. I'll slow things down. It's just been a bit since I've had you all to myself and I got excited."

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close. "I know. I want you, Blaise. Really, I do, but it's like I can't escape him. Every time we start to get physical, he pops into my head and I don't know how to make it stop."

I felt his hands on my back. They travelled up to my shoulders, kneading them lightly. Whispering once again, he said, "Tesoro, you'll probably always think of him initially. I know you loved him and that moving on hasn't been easy for you. But I promise that you'll only think of me eventually. I'm going to treat you so well. I could go into detail, but we'll likely get into trouble if I do."

His hot breath on my ear and neck made me shiver, and I could nearly feel him smirking at me. My face was still against his chest, and I could smell his cologne — light and fresh and masculine — on his shirt. His body heat was radiating through and it was all comforting. I loved the way he held me.

"Okay. We'll work on it," I said, and he squeezed me tighter. "I'll try to get past it every time."

"And if it's ever too much, just tell me, Hermione. I understand."

_But will you always? Or will this drive a wedge between us?_

* * *

Blaise and I were sitting beside each other on the sofa and I was nervously awaiting Ron and Luna's arrival. I was looking forward to seeing little Stella — she'd been so cute at Christmas. Most of the other Weasleys had arrived already, along with Andromeda and Teddy. At eight years old, Teddy was definitely shaping up to be his mother's son. He was just as clumsy as Tonks had been and was also a Metamorphmagus.

Feeling an arm wrap around my shoulders, I turned my attention to Blaise. He kissed my lips sweetly. "It's not going to be as bad as you think it is."

"Oh, have you ever had a row with Ronald Weasley? Have you ever dealt with his jealousy and tirades?" I teased.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't, but you've always succeeded wonderfully with it."

I snuggled closer into his side, even though I knew breaking the news to Ron by being actively cuddled by Blaise was cowardly. Then again, he might not even think twice since we had always been affectionate friends. Hearing the Floo roar to life, I took a deep breath.

Luna and Stella stepped out first. Her eyes landed on us and widened. "Well, that's new," she began. "Hermione, you're shifting! I can see you're trying to mesh. It looks like it's taking."

Laughing, I replied, "Well, I'm glad it seems to be working. I'm ready for something different."

She surveyed me thoughtfully, and then Ron stepped out, his eyes automatically landing on Blaise and me. Before her husband could start rambling, Luna nodded and said, "It looks good on you. It's a happy color."

Ron groaned. "So you're finally ready to admit that all the touching and stuff is more than just a friendship?"

Blaise somehow pulled me closer and kissed my temple. "Yes, Weasley. Hermione and I are going to give it a go. Do you have a problem with it?"

"Only if you hurt her, Zabini," he sighed. "I'm just glad you finally accepted it and admitted it out loud. I've seen the way you've looked at her for years."

Ron's words made my heart speed up, especially since I'd just heard them from Pansy, as well. _Years? Had it really been years? Had he been interested in me even when I was with Draco?_

"I'm not going to hurt her. You can trust me on that," Blaise answered, sounding so sure of himself.

I wish I could feel that sure, that comfortable.

Grimacing, Ron followed his daughter through the house, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing. "James!" she screeched, repeating her friend's name over and over again.

Luna smiled, a hand resting on her abdomen. I knew what it meant; she was either already pregnant or longing to be again. Ron had always wanted a big family and I was sure they'd soon have another little one running around. I'd never really been the type to fantasise about being a mother, but I was feeling left behind again. It was the same feeling I'd had at the Leaky before my first night with Draco, and I knew it had made me reckless then.

I wouldn't let this emotion rule me this time — I would take things slowly with Blaise. I didn't want to mess up, and that was a real risk here. Resolving to make an appointment with Penelope to discuss all of these things — my new relationship, my feelings of being left behind, my feelings about Draco — I stopped worrying and started enjoying the company surrounding me.

"So, Luna, tell me about Stella and what she's been reading," I began. "What has she been enjoying lately?"

* * *

When we left Grimmauld Place, Blaise assured me I was dressed perfectly for whatever he had planned. I was still having difficulty believing that; most places I imagined Blaise Zabini would involve more formal outfits than a sweater dress and leggings paired with heeled boots, but he was also dressed slightly more casual than usual. His shirt wasn't buttoned up all the way and he wasn't wearing a blazer.

"I can take you Side-Along, yes?" he asked.

Laughing, I said, "Of course you can. I trust you."

He grinned and spun on his heel, taking me to a busy street in a wizarding community. It wasn't Diagon Alley, but I could feel the magic humming in the air and everyone was wearing cloaks instead of jackets or coats. Looking down the street, I saw unfamiliar shops and restaurants. I had never been here before.

"Where are we?"

"We're in Falmouth, near where the Falcons play Quidditch." Seeing the expression on my face, he quickly added, "Don't worry, Tesoro, we're not going to a match. A friend of mine has a great restaurant near the stadium. That's all."

"Thank Merlin. It's cold out and I don't fancy sitting outside," I replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Like I'd take you to Quidditch on a first date or make you sit outside. I'm not a peasant — I do have a climate-controlled box at Falmouth."

_Pansy was right — he's a lot like Draco. More money than he knows what to do with._

"Okay. Let's go and get inside," I said, rubbing my hands together. Blaise conjured me a pair of gloves and I thanked him with a smile.

He shook his head. "One stop first. I think you really need to see this."

I quickly realised why when he pulled me into an unmarked shop. There were shelves upon shelves of old books and the shop was still decorated with twinkling lights and leaf and evergreen garlands. It was like a fairy bower filled with rare texts, and there were chairs and cushions to read on strewn throughout the store.

"Blaise, it's gorgeous. Absolutely, well, magical," I breathed, running my gloved fingertips over the spines of the nearest books.

He kissed the top of my head. "They're not all magical. This shop has a big Muggle collection as well. A lot of older editions of the classics preserved with magic."

"Do they sell them?" I asked, mentally going over how many Galleons I had available to spend.

He chuckled. "Of course they do, but we're just here for a peek today. I want to bring you back here on a day when we have more time."

"I'll be quick," I reasoned. "I'll just pick one or two and then we can go."

"No, Tesoro. You won't be quick. I want you to take everything in and pick what you'd really like. I'll bring you back tomorrow if you really want—"

I stopped him there. "Yes, tomorrow morning when we get up, I want to come back here straight away."

Smiling at me indulgently, Blaise took my hand and led me to the small restaurant owned by his friend, a Hufflepuff several years older than us. I hadn't known her, but she came over to chat with Blaise and make recommendations. I watched him essentially flirt with her, and I found myself wondering if they'd ever slept together. She touched his shoulders and his arm, displaying familiarity. Even though I knew Blaise's general demeanour was flirtatious, my stomach started churning with jealousy and nerves.

When he looked up at me, he read my expression quickly.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked.

I swallowed hard and plastered on a smile. "Yes, everything's fine. Carry on."

The Hufflepuff blushed and stood up. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Granger. I shouldn't have — it was rude of me to stay longer than a quick hello. You two are on a date."

"Sara, thank you for the reservation. We'll definitely be back again," Blaise said before she nodded and walked away.

When she was out of our line of sight, he smirked at me. "You got jealous again."

"I did not!" I hissed. "I just didn't realise we were inviting other people to join us on our first date."

"She gave us the table, last minute, on a Saturday night. I was being polite," Blaise explained. "Do you really think I want to be here with anyone but you? I've been waiting a long time for this."

What he was saying made sense, but the part of me that was used to being the other woman was having a hard time accepting the split attention. Blaise moved his chair closer to mine and grabbed my hand. "I'm here with you. You're who I want to be with. You're the one I've been waiting for, Hermione."

Squeezing his hand, I replied, "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to this."

"I know, and it's not like I don't have a past. I do. I've been with more than my fair share of women, so I know it's going to take you time to trust me. Just know that since you've been alone, I have, too."

This shocked me. Blaise had always been the type to be with a different witch every month, if not every week. Draco used to tease him about it relentlessly. If he'd stopped sleeping around when I became more or less available, well, it spoke volumes. His feelings had clearly existed longer than I could even fathom, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Throughout the date, I didn't feel much different than I had at a regular meal with Blaise; we conversed in the same way, talking about work and our mutual acquaintances. It was all very comfortable and normal. However, his touch caused both goosebumps on my skin and heat in my blood. And when he ordered a slice of cake for dessert, he fed me from his fork, his eyes focused on my lips. Once we were outside of the restaurant, he pressed me against the wall and kissed me again, just like he had in Italy.

As soon as our lips met, a camera flashed somewhere nearby, and I knew I'd be finding myself in the paper or _Witch Weekly_ in the very near future. There would be speculation about how long we'd been seeing each other, why I hadn't told anyone, so on and so forth. I didn't really care, but I knew others would want to weigh in on my decision to start something with Blaise, and I didn't want to hear it. Pansy had been right on my birthday — he knew everything about me, good and bad, light and dark, and he still wanted me. He was still here.

And it helped that I felt attracted to him, as well.

There was potential in this relationship if I could exorcise Draco's ghost from my life. But Draco was under my skin, on my mind, in my heart. He was always there, waiting for me to be alone so I'd think of him, always a part of me.

Blaise held my hand and pulled me along. "So, shall I take you home now?"

"Are you coming with me?" I asked.

Watching his face, I saw a flash of desire but also wariness. "I don't think we should spend the night together yet, Hermione."

"I wasn't implying that we'd have sex, if that's what you're worried about, Blaise," I stated. "We slept in the same bed in Italy and it wasn't anything sexual."

"Maybe not, but I wanted it to be," he admitted. "I want you so badly it hurts. I won't be able to control myself as well this time around."

_But I think I can._

Even though I knew it was a bit manipulative, I said, "I just don't want to be alone. I want to spend time with you and make this work, Blaise."

"I don't want to _make_ anything work, Hermione. I want it to work on its own. Do you feel like you're forcing this? Being with me?"

I thought for a moment. "Not really. I'm wary, and I need to give myself a nudge sometimes, but I definitely feel something."

Looking into my eyes with both relief and determination, he asked, "Well, will you come back to mine at least? I don't really want to be in the bed you shared with—"

"Yes," I answered quickly. "I think that would be for the best."

Blaise extended his hand to me and I grabbed it tightly. When we arrived at his house, I was shocked. It was so much different than the last time I'd visited. It was clear he'd had renovations performed, lightening up the whole place. All of the deep forest green and dark wood furnishing had been changed out for much lighter colors — greys and blues and lighter greens.

"So, Tesoro, welcome back. I think you'll notice things are a bit different here now."

I walked through the open main floor, tracing the edges of the furniture with my fingertips. Everything was of the highest quality, showcasing his wealth in an understated way. I sat down on his plush sofa, which was upholstered in rich cream-colored leather.

Dropping my head back, I groaned. "This is so fucking comfortable. Where did you find it?"

He shrugged. "I didn't. The decorator did."

I leaned down and started removing my shoes, getting ready to curl up on the sofa for a bit. Blaise took the seat next to me and pulled me into his side. Placing a kiss on his cheek, I smiled at him. "Dinner was great, even if I did get a teensy bit jealous of Sara."

"Oh, so you're admitting it now?"

"I didn't deny it before," I answered.

Blaise seemed like he was thinking back. "Oh, you definitely did deny it, Hermione." He punctuated the statement with a peck on my lips. "But that's okay. I like you jealous." Leaning in, he kissed me again. Just like every other kiss we'd shared, it made me want more. More of him, here at his flat.

When I returned his kiss, he held me even closer.

As the passion between us grew, Blaise pulled me into his lap. I straddled him, nearly breathless, and pressed my body against his. He was gripping my waist and I could feel self-control rolling off of him in waves. His hands wanted to roam, wanted to touch me everywhere, but he was holding himself back, afraid to scare me away.

My self-control, on the other hand, was severely lacking. Internally, I debated stripping my dress off and throwing it aside. I was wearing a camisole underneath it, and I wanted to feel his hands on me with nothing between us. I ground against the tent in his trousers and moaned into his mouth. Pulling back, he searched my eyes, and I took the opportunity to start removing my dress. After a second, Blaise tugged at it too, helping me. As we dragged it over my head, I felt the static crackle, mixing with our magic in the air, and my whole body started to feel electrified.

When I was finally left in my camisole and leggings atop Blaise's lap, I kissed him hard and shamelessly rubbed against him again, making myself shiver. His hands were gripping my arse and he held me in place as he rocked up into me. As I whimpered, his mouth moved down my neck, to my shoulder, where his teeth snagged the thin strap of the camisole and tugged it aside. He sucked on my collarbone, his mouth moving from the outside in, and one of his hands slid up to cup my breast. When he gently skimmed his palm over my hard nipple, my hips jerked closer to his pelvis of their own volition.

"Blaise," I murmured, my voice husky. "Please touch me."

At my words, he pulled back. "I thought we were just going to sleep. We're not supposed to be doing this tonight. Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Please, don't stop. I want this. I want you," I said, and it was the truth.

His hand stayed on my waist and I looked into his eyes. "Hermione, you've been giving me mixed signals all day. At Grimmauld, you were into what we were doing until we started grinding like this and I was talking dirty to you. Before we came here, you said we weren't going to have sex. I need to know what you're comfortable with. I don't want to scare you away."

When he said it like that, it made sense. I had been giving him a lot of contradicting information. I thought for a moment. "Can we try hands? Fingers? Whatever."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded and leaned in, kissing him again. His hand moved tentatively back to my breast, slipping inside the camisole. When his fingers found my nipple, I purred my approval into his mouth. He kept rolling it between his fingers, teasing me. My hands moved down his torso, tugging his shirt free of his trousers. My hands slid up under it, finding his hard, muscled abdomen. I groaned, suddenly realising I'd never seen Blaise without a shirt.

I pulled back. "Take it off, Zabini. I want to look at you."

"Bossy little thing," he said, laughing. He unbuttoned the cuffs and collar and pulled it over his head, leaving him in an undershirt.

I mock-glared at him. "All of it, Blaise. I could feel what's under there with my hands. I want to see it."

I grabbed the hem of the white cotton shirt and tugged it off of him. At the sight of his lean, bared torso, my mouth went dry. He was perfection, dark skin over hard muscles. He wasn't pale and somewhat wiry. No, he was completely different, and I found that was exactly what I wanted — what I needed.

My hands explored every inch of his exposed body as my lips devoured his. Blaise's hands stayed steady on my hips, and my breasts missed the attention he had been giving them earlier. I moved my hands to the bottom of my camisole, preparing to take it off, and he stopped me.

"You need to stay dressed, Hermione," he said. "I won't be able to stop myself if we both end up naked."

I pouted at him. "But I want you to touch me again."

"And I will, but please don't strip down to nothing. Hands only, remember?"

I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast, and he stroked his thumb over my hardened nipple. After a few repeats of this motion, his forehead was resting on my shoulder, his tongue and lips teasing the collarbone closest to him. "I want to suck on your nipples," he confessed. "I want to make them even harder."

My hips rocked against him again and I pulled the camisole down under my breast, giving his mouth access. I cried out when he took the bud into his mouth, his tongue teasing it gently. His hands pulled me even closer and I continued rolling my hips, grinding on his hard length. After a few moments, I was moaning, the feeling of him hard against my clit and the pleasure I was getting from him sucking my nipple driving me towards the edge.

His free hand moved between our bodies and I felt him delve into the waistband of my leggings. Again, he looked to me for approval. I nodded, and he started rubbing his fingers through my folds, exploring me. "Fuck, Hermione, you're so wet," he groaned, his attentions focusing on my clit. It was already swollen, and this teasing was only going to make it worse. "Merlin, I want to slide inside of you."

Blaise shifted, laying me flat on my back. He was alongside me, his hand still between my thighs. I threw a leg over the back of the sofa, opening wider for him. When I felt a finger slip inside of me, rubbing against my walls, I nearly cried out. It had been so long — I hadn't even touched myself since the Obliviation.

"So tight, Tesoro. I'm going to try to add another finger." He slid it in, filling me and stretching me.

I had forgotten what this felt like, how something as simple as a touch could make me cry out. My hips started moving with Blaise's hand and he seemed pleased. Kissing me again, he stifled my whimpers and cries. I felt one of his fingers curl ever so slightly, and then my walls started fluttering. As I whimpered, he kept sliding in and out, his palm putting pressure on my clit. When I moaned for him, he just stroked _that_ spot inside of me, rubbing it until I came, convulsing and crying out for him.

"Perfect. You're so perfect," he said, sliding his fingers away and leaving me wanting more. I watched as he tasted me, sucking them into his mouth to clean up.

_Oh Godric. He's just made me come all over his hand. Blaise is sucking my come off of his fingers, and it's bloody fucking hot._

I was boneless against him, the first orgasm I'd had in over a year taking a lot out of me, even if I hadn't been the one working for it.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "Some women don't like it after I've… Well, I've just tasted you."

I kissed him, my tongue working its way into his mouth. He groaned in surprise and I kept going. His hand was working its way back towards my centre, and I let him bring me to climax once more before I sat up. He moved with me and I looked into his eyes. "I'm not ready to have sex, but I don't… I hate giving hand jobs." He laughed, interrupting me. "If you're okay with it—"

"You don't have to return the favour, so to speak," he said, reassuring me.

I shook my head. "Listen to me. If you're okay with it, I'd like to—" I hesitated again. Why was this so hard for me to say? I wanted to do it, but the words wouldn't come out. "I'd like to use my mouth on you, Blaise."

I watched as his eyes widened a fraction. "Are you sure, Hermione? Really, you don't have to. I can… take care of myself. In the shower or something."

I moved off the sofa, settling myself on my knees between his thighs and reaching for his belt. "No, I want to, Blaise. I want to do something for you."

His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, and he took a deep breath. "If it's what you actually want to do, I won't stop you."

I tugged at his trousers and he stood, summoning a blanket to cover the leather upholstery. When I pulled his shorts and trousers down, they pooled around his ankles. His cock was hard and heavy, and when he sat on the edge of the sofa, it stood at attention, waiting for me to begin.

Blaise leaned forward and cupped my face with his hands. "If you're not ready, don't force it, Tesoro," he pleaded.

I smirked at him before moving towards his prick, slowly sucking just the head into my mouth. His hands moved from my cheeks to my hair, holding on while I took more of him in.

"Fuck, Hermione, I've wanked to the thought of this so many times," he groaned, stopping when my tongue stroked the underside of his cock with as much pressure as it could. "This is so much better than anything I'd imagined already."

I pulled back, holding only the head in my mouth again. I met his eyes when I swirled my tongue around, and he looked like he wanted to thrust until he was nearly all the way down my throat. Testing that theory, I quickly moved down, taking him as deep as I could without help. When I gagged a bit, he tried to pull back, but I held him in place.

"Oh, sweet Salazar," Blaise gasped, his hips jerking up. I moaned around him and he tentatively moved upwards again. "Do you like that?"

In response, I took him deep again.

"Okay, best girlfriend ever," he said, tangling his hands in my hair and dropping his head back to enjoy my ministrations.

I pulled up, laughing. "I'm sorry. I just… It's funny. I'm going to assume you never thought I'd like doing this?"

"Talk later. Finish what you started now," he whined. "My bollocks have been aching all day. It won't be much longer."

Smiling at him, I continued, sucking and teasing until he came. When I swallowed his come, he pulled me into his lap again, kissing me deeply. I loved that he was also okay with the taste of himself, not shying away from kissing me after a blow job.

"So fucking good," he murmured against my lips between kisses. "I'm gonna make you come again for that. I need to."

His hand started rubbing me through my leggings. I was keyed up from giving him head, so it didn't take long for him to drive me over the edge.

When I collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily, I said, "Well, I think we should get cleaned up and ready for bed now."

He nuzzled his face against my neck. "This wasn't what I had planned, but it was amazing. I'd be willing to do it again anytime."

"Me too," I answered. "Please tell me I can borrow a pair of your boxers to sleep in. I'm a mess."

Laughing, he lifted and held onto me as he stepped out of the trousers around his ankles. "Of course you can. Wrap your legs around me, Tesoro. I'll bring you to the bedroom to get changed."

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to split into two, but it all fell on the same day, so I just threw it all out into the world as one. We want to see Draco and Hermione in the same place before the end of this month, right? *wink*
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! I look forward to hearing your thoughts!


	16. Hermione - March 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to PotionChemist's smutty Saturday. 
> 
> I already posted a Harry/Pansy one-shot set in this universe, and now you're getting Hermione/Blaise smut. I promise you'll get a big chunk of plot next week.

Blaise and I had been seeing each other for a few months, and he was often gone with the Aurors, leaving me to my own devices. Most of the time, it was fine. Other times, it reminded me of my relationship with Draco and made me second guess everything. This was something I should've foreseen; Blaise had the same job and level of commitment to it that Draco did. He often worked late and was away on missions. My stomach would be in knots until I knew he was home safely. I'd bought us both Muggle mobiles so he could call and check in with me.

I stood at the window, staring out into the tree line, waiting for my phone to ring. It was well past two in the morning on a Saturday and my stomach was churning with worry. He said he'd call, that it wouldn't be a late night, that we'd have dessert together and go to bed.

But he hadn't called.

I started pacing, hating myself for assuming the worst had happened and comparing the situation to my relationship with Draco. I was wondering if Blaise was with another woman, even though I knew, deep down, he would never do that to me. My mind was filled with anxiety and wouldn't stop running.

_It had been months, and I still hadn't let him shag me. Maybe he was tired of oral sex. Maybe he'd realised I'd never fully be over Draco and was sick of waiting, sick of dealing with my hang ups. Who wanted to live a life with a woman obsessed with their best mate's memory?_

_I thought I had been doing better, that I was moving past everything, but I was clearly wrong. Blaise had seen right through me, just like he always did, and now he was going to leave. Maybe he'd gone back to Falmouth and was going to take Sara the Hufflepuff restaurateur as his girlfriend instead of me._

I was clutching my mobile in my hand and looking out the window, which was irrational since Blaise would Apparate right into my house or use the Floo.

Flipping the mobile open and closed about a hundred times, hoping something would change, I debated calling him. I was afraid to interrupt his mission, though. What if he hadn't silenced the phone? What if it alerted someone to his location? I started scrolling through the very small number of contacts obsessively, and my cursor landed on Harry. It was so obvious I could bloody kick myself. I hit the green button, sending the call out across the airwaves.

"Hermione?" he answered. "What are you doing up?"

"Blaise was supposed to be here by now. I can't—I can't sleep, Harry. Do you know where he is?"

He let out a sigh. "We haven't heard from their team yet. I thought it would've been ages ago. I'm still at the Ministry waiting. Do you want to come and wait with me?"

"Yeah," I answered, already stripping out of my pajamas. "I'll be there soon. I'll just leave a note in case he decides to come here first."

"See you soon," he replied before disconnecting.

I changed my clothes and put my hair up in a messy knot. It was the middle of the fucking night; no one would be at the Ministry and Harry certainly wouldn't care what I looked like. I scribbled a quick note to Blaise and left it in front of the Floo before stepping into the grate.

* * *

When I arrived at the Ministry, I ran to the nearest lift and headed up to the DMLE. Harry was standing in the middle of the floor, hands on his hips. When he saw me, his face fell. "I'm sorry, I should've called you, Hermione. I can see you've worked yourself into a state."

Not trusting myself to speak, I shook my head. "Who is he after, Harry? He wouldn't tell me ahead of time, and I know this mission is big if you're worried about it now."

"Dolohov," Harry answered, avoiding my eyes. "Antonin Dolohov. He was spotted near the Russian border, likely trying to get back through, so we put together a mission in record time. I'm beginning to think we were set up, though. They should've been back hours ago."

I started pacing the office, unable to stop worrying. "You need to send someone to find out."

"We sent them in prepared for anything, just like always, Hermione. Merlin, I've never seen you so worried. Malfoy went on missions like this all the time and—"

Before I could stop myself, I shouted, "That was different! He was never mine to lose!"

The words hung in the air between us, full of implications I wasn't sure I was ready for. Harry's mouth gaped, and I slapped a hand over my lips.

"And Blaise is?" Harry asked, not letting me off the hook.

Taking a deep breath, I thought for a moment. "You know the situations are different. If something had happened to Draco, I would've been devastated, but it's not like I could've been here waiting for him. And he rarely came to my house after a mission. Blaise was supposed to call me and come over tonight. We're together. It's just us, no one else in the picture. I was waiting alone at my house for ages."

"Hermione, how serious are you about Blaise? I didn't think it was like that. I thought you two were just… having a good time. You know, a rebound sort of thing."

Fuck, he was dense sometimes. "I think it's serious, Harry. To me, making the decision to start something with him… it was almost like how making the decision to start something with you would've been. It was either nothing or everything. There was nothing in the middle. Once we crossed that line, and we weren't just friends anymore, there was no going back."

A heavy silence seemed to settle over us again. My words carried weight and he knew that. We'd never talked about starting a romantic relationship, but we both knew it would've been one of the most serious decisions we'd ever have made.

My mobile rang, shattering the stunned silence, and Blaise's name lit up the screen. I fumbled with it, trying to open it quickly. "Blaise? Where are you? Are you okay?"

"Hermione, calm down. I'm fine. Where are you?"

"I'm at the DMLE with Harry," I said.

"Tesoro, tell Potter he owes me. We're on our way back to the Ministry, and we've got both Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange. A few others were killed," Blaise replied.

"I was worried when I hadn't heard from you."

"I promise you, I'm fine. None of the good guys were badly hurt or killed. I'll see you in half an hour or so. I hope you're ready for me to snog you senseless in front of everyone," he teased before disconnecting, not waiting for me to answer him.

I relayed the message to Harry and he was annoyed that Blaise had taken the time to reach out to me and not him. A moment later, a Patronus charged into the room. I examined the lioness closely when Blaise's voice came out of it. "Potter, we've captured Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange. Rodolphus and some lower level Death Eaters were killed. We're on the way back as soon as the Portkey is sorted."

"I think the Muggle means of communication was faster," I laughed. "The Patronus did have to travel here all the way from Russia or wherever they were."

Our anxiety relieved, Harry and I lounged in his office. I tucked myself into his side and dozed off, exhausted from the events of the day. I didn't even stir when the Aurors started marching through the department. In fact, the only thing that woke me was Blaise's gentle stroking of my hair. When my eyes fluttered open, he said, "I don't really fancy coming back from risking my life to find my girlfriend cuddled up with another man."

I smiled up at him, still drowsy. "Glad you made it back in one piece. I'm starting to like having you around."

He grabbed my hands and pulled me to standing, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me softly. "Good. That was my plan, Hermione. Make it so that you want to keep me."

Harry groaned. "Take it literally anywhere else. I don't want to be sick."

Blaise held his wand to his temple and pulled out memories, sealing them in vials for Harry. "Here's what you need from today, Potter. I'm going to take my witch home and put her to bed since she's clearly exhausted."

"Thanks, Blaise. For everything today, and for looking after Hermione."

Nodding, he led me out of the room and through the Ministry to the Floo. He pulled me in with him and we ended up back in his flat.

"I need a shower," he commented. "It's been a long day. You know where everything is. Feel free to borrow something and climb into bed."

He kissed me again and headed for the bathroom. I stood frozen, thinking about the way I'd felt earlier when I was worried about him and the things I'd said to Harry. _Blaise was mine to lose._ That could mean so many things; I could lose him on a mission, or from some kind of illness, or in some kind of freak accident.

Or I could lose him because, regardless of what I felt, I was still keeping him at a distance. It had been three months, and I'd not yet given myself to him fully. While he was patient and kind and claimed he was fine with it, I knew he was worried that things wouldn't ever progress between us.

Steeling myself, I walked into the bedroom and stripped off my clothes. I thought of the way Blaise made me feel. Everything about him got my heart racing. I was holding back for no reason at all. As I studied my reflection in the mirror he kept in the corner of the room, I realised I looked healthy again, maybe even a little bit sexy. Working my hair out of the knot on top of my head, I ran my fingers through it and fluffed it, trying to bolster my confidence. I thought of his mouth on me, his fingers working their magic, his body, all muscles and smooth skin. I watched the change come over myself in the mirror as I thought about having sex with him, and I knew I was ready.

Opening the bathroom door quietly, I snuck in. Blaise nearly jumped out of his skin when I slid the shower door open, but he recovered quickly, his eyes roaming over my bare body. For the first time, he didn't pause to ask if I was ready or sure or anything else. He just crashed his lips down onto mine and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against him.

He didn't give me any time to overthink what was happening between us.

I could feel his cock getting harder and longer, pressing into my abdomen as he kissed me. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, I welcomed it. One of his hands found its way between my legs, trying to determine if I was ready for him. His fingers grazed my clit and then he worked them inside of me, making me even more needy.

"Blaise," I panted. "Please, Blaise. No more waiting."

Pressing me into the cold tiled wall, he repeated my words. "No more waiting. It feels like it's been half my life at this point, Hermione."

His lips were on my neck and his fingers were still inside of me, teasing me relentlessly. I could feel my legs quivering as he stroked me, his thumb moving against my clit. "You need to come at least once before we start. I'm probably not going to last long." I let out a moan, and he continued, "I've wanted you so badly I'm probably going to perform like a randy teenager."

I laughed and smiled, meeting his eyes. "Blaise, I'm close. How do you want me? I'll come. I'm so close."

"Can I… Fuck, we should be in a bed, not in the bloody shower. Shower sex sounds sexy, but it's not," he groaned, shutting the water off. "I appreciate the spontaneity, though."

I led him to the bed and he lifted me, setting me on his mattress. "How do you want this to be?" he asked, stroking a hand over his length while he looked down at me.

_Fuck, he's sexy, looming over me and touching himself._

"I want you to do it the way you want to," I answered honestly. "Just… careful at first. It's been awhile."

Blaise nodded and climbed onto the mattress beside me, laying flat on his back, and gestured for me to straddle him. I didn't anticipate this would be his choice; most of the men I'd been with preferred from behind or to throw my legs over their shoulders. However, I certainly wasn't complaining.

"Tesoro, you set the pace. I just — I can't wait to finally be inside of you," he admitted.

I positioned myself over him, his tip at my entrance. Instead of dropping down, I rubbed myself against him, sliding against his length, teasing both of us. Groaning, he held my hips tightly, pressing me down harder and turning the torture around on me. I cried out when my clit pressed against the hard ridge of his head, and he moved his hips upwards, rocking against me again.

"Okay, I get it. No more teasing," I cried out, and he laughed.

Leaning down to kiss him, I felt his fingers slip inside of me — twisting and curling, opening and stretching me — and I moaned at the feeling. When I started to move with him, he broke the kiss and said, "Imagine how good this will feel when I'm truly inside of you."

Despite his words, he kept fucking me with his fingers, not stopping until he made me come.

Once I'd recovered, I felt his lips move against mine when he whispered, "Now you're ready."

Blaise's eyes locked on mine and he held his cock steady for me, allowing me to sink down and take him in fully.

"Fuck," I hissed. "You feel so good."

After a moment, I started moving, riding him at a slow pace while I got accustomed to the feeling again. My body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Sex was something I loved and I'd denied myself for so long. I picked up the pace, and I noticed he was watching my breasts as I moved. He'd been silent, which surprised me. Blaise always struck me as a dirty talker.

When I bottomed out on top of him, I ground forward, my clit rubbing against his groin. I moaned and his hands clamped down on my hips, moving me in the same way I just had.

"Do that again, Hermione. Just rock against me. I felt you tightening," he ordered, and I obeyed.

I instantly realised what his intentions were. Every slide against him was making me moan and I felt a current zipping and zapping throughout my body. After a few minutes of this easy grinding, I was clenching around him and Blaise was praising me. "So fucking gorgeous. Perfect. I love it when you come for me."

When I regained my senses, I started riding him in earnest, moving quickly and feeling him so deep it almost hurt. He struggled his way up to sitting, leaning forward to take one of my nipples into his mouth, giving it a quick suck and gentle bite before releasing it. "Hermione, fuck, this is so good. You're gonna make me come."

His admission made me move faster, fuck him harder. The glazed look in his eyes as he watched made me feel powerful. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, and he stopped all my movements, thrusting up into me at the pace he wanted. Needing to kiss him, I leaned forward, capturing his lips with mine. The passion with which he returned the kiss turned my insides to jelly, and then he moved just the right way and I cried out, breaking away from him.

"Oh, I found it. Don't move, Hermione. I'm gonna make you scream my name right now," he stated, his cockiness incredibly sexy at this moment.

He moved the same way and I felt myself shiver. Continuing to make shallow thrusts, he rubbed against the perfect spot inside of me until another orgasm rocked through me. My head tipped back and I grabbed my own breasts, squeezing them as my pussy spasmed. "Oh, Gods, Blaise!" I cried, a wail of pleasure following my words.

"Yes, so fucking hot. I'm right there with you, love."

And he was. As my orgasm faded, I felt Blaise pulse inside of me. He brought his knees up and let me recline against them, catching my breath. "Holy shit," I said.

"Yeah, that about covers it," he replied.

We stared at each other and then laughed, the stress of the day and the endorphins flooding our brains getting to us. He sat up fully and kissed me again, smiling against my lips.

"When can we do that again?" he asked, and I rocked my hips against him in answer.

I was willing to give it a go as soon as he was ready.

* * *

I woke the next morning, tangled in his arms and sheets, completely naked. My heart started racing, forgetting just for a moment that this was fine — this was where I was supposed to be and who I was supposed to be with. When the memories of the previous night started playing over in my mind, I felt the strangest mix of emotions.

I was terrified of his job, of the anxiety I'd had while waiting for him to come home. I was relieved he'd actually made it home. I was happy we'd finally taken things beyond where we'd been on our first date. I was sore from our physical exertions, having woken up a few times throughout the night to sate ourselves again and again.

Rolling onto my side to face Blaise, I smiled. Even if I'd felt slightly panicked and like I'd done something wrong, seeing him quelled those doubts. He was still fast asleep, flat on his back with the grey sheet covering him from the chest down.

I studied him, looking over every visible inch of skin and slab of muscle. Scooting closer, I slung a leg over his hips and cuddled up to him, my lips landing on his neck. He grunted in his sleep and I stifled a giggle before kissing him again.

"Insatiable," he said. "Haven't you had enough of me yet?"

My only answers were more kisses along his jaw until I found his lips. Once the kissing began, he quickly rolled to his side, hiking my leg up higher so his cock was touching my pussy. He rocked towards me, teasing me.

"Do you need more, Hermione?" he asked.

I nodded, moving my hips towards his to make more contact.

"Say it," he commanded. "Tell me you want me."

His lips were on my neck, and then my collarbone, and then around my nipple while he ground his erection against my center, teasing me to the point of no return. Inhaling deeply, I shuddered. "Blaise, I want you. Please."

He pressed me down on my back, into the mattress, and settled himself between my thighs. When I looked up at him, he was all I saw — no memories of the past, no Draco — just Blaise, the man who brought me back to life. He had helped me rebuild, and now I was quickly approaching happy again. Letting go and taking this final step with him made me feel free and more hopeful than I'd been in a long time.

Expecting him to push into me right away, I braced my heels on the mattress. However, he worked his way down my body, and I quickly learned that he _really_ liked to take his time and that his tongue might be the best thing about him.

He made me beg and plead for him before he finally slid inside of me, and I nearly cried out in relief.

"That's right, Tesoro. Let me hear you," Blaise said. "I want to hear you come for me again and again. I want you to get lost in me, the same way I'm completely lost in you."

And I immediately decided that was how I wanted to spend the whole weekend, completely losing myself in Blaise, in his body. I wanted to be so focused on him that I forgot everything — and everyone — else existed.

It would be just the two of us in a little bubble made of happiness and lust.

As I shook and cried out underneath him, I found myself hoping things could stay this way forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bounces up and down in desk chair*
> 
> I can't wait for next Saturday. We need to get this story moving a bit faster, yes? 
> 
> See you then. *wink*


	17. Draco - March 2007

Since September, I'd been revising to take my Auror re-entrance exams. I may have told Astoria I was just bored and brushing up on my skills but, deep down, I'd known it would come to this. I needed to go back to work. I _wanted_ to go back to work.

Now, five months later, I was owling Potter and setting up a private meeting.

When he stepped through my Floo, I shook his hand, eager to get right down to business. I hadn't told him what the meeting was about and he looked fairly nervous.

"Malfoy," he began. "What's all the secrecy about? Why couldn't you come to the Ministry?"

With a sigh, I replied, "I haven't told anyone what I'm about to tell you." He gestured for me to continue. "I've been studying and I want to take the re-entrance exams. I want to come back to work."

He muttered something under his breath — I couldn't make out what it was — before he responded properly. "Are you sure about this, Malfoy? As soon as James was born, I applied to come out of the field, for the most part. I only take the odd mission now."

"I'm positive. I'm going mad sitting here at home. I'm not interested in going to work for my father. And I feel like…" I got lost in my own head for a few moments. "I feel like something's missing and I need to reclaim part of my old life."

Watching his expression, I could tell he was conflicted. He'd openly said I'd been good at my job, but he was likely hesitant to let me come back because of my injuries. On top of that, I was sure he was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that I'd be in his daily life again. Regardless of how far we'd come, I was sure things were never perfectly easy between us.

After a few moments of consideration, Potter put on his best professional mask and detailed what I'd need to do. Before I could even think about taking an exam, he needed a letter from my healer stating that I had no issues making new short and long-term memories. I needed to prove that all of my faculties were in order with a Ministry-appointed healer, as well. My reaction time, vision, hearing, and more would be thoroughly tested.

Once all of those requirements had been satisfied, I'd have to go through both written and practical exams in several different areas of magic. If I had to guess, I'd be busy trying to satisfy these requirements for the better part of the month.

I wondered what I should tell Astoria; I didn't fancy upsetting her with the news that I was becoming an Auror again until it was official.

Once Potter finished talking, I asked, "How soon can I start the process?"

Running a hand through his already messy hair, he replied, "Whenever you want, Malfoy."

With a grin, I said, "I'll see my healer tomorrow. Try to get me booked in with a Ministry healer shortly thereafter."

* * *

Healer Ignatius Avery was most definitely paid for his discretion.

From the first time I met him after I'd woken up, I had known that. He had a terrible bedside manner, a pureblood pedigree, and was on a first name basis with my father. For whatever reason, the man never seemed to look me straight in the eyes, and I wasn't sure if that was because he pitied me or if he was hiding something. Either way, it set my nerves on edge.

"Mr. Malfoy, I don't think it's wise for you to return to work," he stated. "Your father is going to be very unhappy—"

"My father needs to mind his own fucking business," I interrupted. "Is there a physical reason for me not to return? I've no trouble making and storing new memories, both short and long-term."

Flipping open my chart, he scanned the words that he'd no doubt written. As pages turned, I grew more and more impatient. He'd been the only healer to see me in over a year. There was nothing new there for him to review. I sat in the armchair across from his desk and eyed him sceptically, tapping my fingertips on his desk.

After clearing his throat, Healer Avery said, "There are no physical problems that would exclude you from this profession, but—"

"I don't need to hear anything else from you. All I need is for you to write a letter to the Ministry stating that."

"Mr. Malfoy—"

"No," I snarled. "I have made up my mind, and if you'd like to continue receiving payment, you'll write the fucking letter. I don't know what my father or my wife has put you up to, but I'm your patient. You work for me."

Pulling a roll of parchment and a quill from his desk, he began writing the letter. When he was finished, I handed him a document I'd been carrying in my cloak. As he unrolled it, I said, "This is a confidentiality agreement. It states that you will not tell anyone — especially my parents or my wife — about anything we discussed today. I will tell them in my own time."

At my words, his face blanched. I almost felt bad; I didn't often act the part of the spoiled, petulant pureblood prince anymore. If I could avoid it, I didn't treat anyone like utter shite. However, I didn't trust any of my father's old friends. I hadn't since the war and I certainly wasn't going to start now.

Knowing he had no choice, he simply nodded and signed the document. His complexion had moved from pasty to slightly green. I couldn't blame him for feeling nervous; I'm sure he had some kind of agreement with my father as well.

Picking up both my health letter and the confidentiality agreement, I nodded to him. "Thank you, Avery. That will be all for today. I trust that I can owl you if I need anything else?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy," he answered. As I started walking towards the door, he added, "Have you spoken to your father or anyone else about the specifics of your accident?"

I froze. "I haven't. A flying accident is just a flying accident, after all. And from what I understand, I was alone when it happened, so there's not much to know."

"Oh…" His voice trailed off. "I see. I was hoping someone had figured out what happened to make you crash. That was all."

I shrugged. "We'll likely never know. I've been flying very little since I woke up."

And with that, I left his office.

* * *

Two days later, I was meeting with the Ministry's healer, going through a battery of tests that were meant to test a witch or wizard's mental functions. For the most part, it was a rather mundane set of tasks that had been created to test memory recall. Much to my satisfaction, I passed these tests with flying colours. It just proved that there was a strange kind of amnesia going on from the accident. I didn't have any long-term, horrible problems with a bad prognosis.

The hardest part about the Ministry's healer examination was getting out of my own house to go to it. For whatever reason, Astoria had chosen to start going out and having a social life again. Sure, the social engagements were mostly just tea parties with old friends, but she was still booked for the whole day.

Which was more than I could say for myself — I never saw anyone outside of family.

I'd had to bring Scorpius to the Manor and ask my mother to care for him for a few hours. When she asked where I was going, I told her I was looking for an anniversary present for Astoria, so I had to make sure I went back to the Manor with something impressive.

After the memory tests were complete, I sat through all the same psychological tests that I'd been subjected to the first time around. I wasn't worried about those, either. If I hadn't been flagged the first time through, I was sure I wouldn't be this time around. With a sigh, I quickly went over all my answers on the much longer, much more intricate personality assessment guide. I remembered taking tests like this one during Auror training to try and find suitable witches or wizards to be partnered with. That was somewhat interesting — I wondered how it would be examined as an individual assessment.

When I handed the test over to the mind healer, she smiled and said, "Let me get Head Auror Potter for you. I think he had a few other things for you to complete today if you have the time."

Looking at my watch, I shrugged. "I'll talk to him and see what he wants me to do."

She sent her Patronus off to Potter and he walked into the room ten minutes later.

"Malfoy. Good to see you." I shook his hand, much like I had a few days ago, and he continued, "I was hoping to get some of the practical tests out of the way. I usually don't conduct them myself, but it's been a slow day and I could use some practise, as well."

Smirking, I said, "I get to duel the great Harry Potter?"

With a laugh, he said, "Scared, Malfoy?"

"Not a chance."

This exchange was so familiar for us — even if it was reversed — and it helped set me at ease. The initial uneasiness I had been feeling vanished. If I'd been able to perform all the spells they wanted me to be able to before, I was sure I could do them now. Hell, I could still cast a Patronus regularly, even if the little otter confused the hell out of me.

Potter took me to a practise duelling room hidden in the lower levels of the Ministry. Once we were situated, he started walking me through a list of spells. I performed them all from memory, never faltering. Some of them I hadn't even practised recently, but my brain immediately knew what to do. I'd been praying for months that it would be easy for me to recall things, but now that it was happening, I found it frustrating. Spells, work, missions… they were all there.

But my personal life? Nearly nothing. Disjointed feelings and memories of Astoria, snippets of free time, nearly no memories of my own fucking house…

Potter must have seen something in my expression. "You're getting distracted by something, Malfoy. What's going on?"

Something in my head was screaming at me to talk to him, to trust him. I didn't know if it was because we'd been somewhat friendly before the accident or because he was just Harry fucking Potter, savior of the wizarding world.

"It's strange. I remember how to do everything you've asked me to do instantly, like I've just never stopped," I replied. "With most things — especially personal things — I can feel my brain trying to make connections, but it can't."

"Are you sure you should be coming back? If your brain can't make connections, I have some concerns—"

"Did you listen? It's only in regards to personal things, Potter. I've recalled all these spells immediately and know how and when to use them. I have no problem making new memories. There is no reason why I can't perform on the job. I just…" Letting out a sigh, I thought for a moment. "I just don't understand why it's not all coming back like this. It doesn't seem normal. I can't even begin to explain how confusing it all is."

Carding a hand through his hair, Potter said, "Look, Malfoy. I understand it must be frustrating, but I think you need to let it all go. Just accept that what's missing isn't coming back. I had a hard time when I shared a mental connection with Voldemort. Sometimes, I saw everything he did clearly. Other times, when I needed to or wanted to, it was much harder. And he also used it against me before I realised what it was."

A shudder ran down my spine at the thought of being inside Voldemort's head. "I've been trying, but when things like this come so easily, it's hard to stop myself from wondering why my personal life specifically is so different. It just feels… targeted."

"Maybe it's where the memories are stored in your brain?" he suggested. "I mean, I'm no expert, but maybe it's something like that."

In a way, that made sense. Maybe it was somehow tied to a more emotional part of my brain. It was something to consider later on.

Shrugging, I said, "Let's get back to it. Are we going to duel? I could use the stress relief."

With a laugh, he gestured for me to move to the other side of the room before throwing a hex at me. I quickly blocked it, ready for his attack. Holding my shield as I moved across the room, I felt more like myself than I had in a long time. As much as I loved Scorpius, I had never wanted to just sit around the house, not doing much of anything with my life.

When I fired my first jinx at Potter, I fell completely into the rhythm of duelling. We both landed a few hits, but we'd held back, sticking to more minor spells since we weren't actually aiming to kill or maim. By the end of the exercise, I was sweating and tired, my magic humming happily in my veins. I hadn't felt a release like that in almost two years.

"You're still one of the best opponents I've ever faced," Potter remarked. "I normally knock people on their arse in the first ten minutes, and we went for about half an hour."

"And you didn't knock me on my arse at all."

He laughed and conjured two glasses, filling them with water from his wand. I happily accepted it and drank quickly.

"I think it's safe to say that you're well enough to duel," he commented.

I grinned. "So what's left? Some sort of written rubbish?"

"Yeah. You can come back and do that tomorrow if it suits you."

Nodding, I said, "As long as Astoria will be home to care for Scorpius, that should work fine. I'll owl you if I run into issues on that front."

When I looked at my watch, I realised it was nearly five in the evening. My mother was likely beside herself, thinking I'd wandered off and forgotten who I was or some other ridiculous notion.

"I have to get going," I began, and Potter held up his hand.

"I do, too. I'll walk you out. You can't be wandering the Ministry on your own until you're officially rehired."

With that, we made our way to the lifts, heading for the Atrium. When we stepped out, I saw Blaise walking towards the Floo, his arm wrapped around Granger's waist. Potter stiffened beside me and grabbed my arm. "Don't draw attention to us, Malfoy. I don't want anyone to know you're coming back until it's official."

"I wasn't planning on it. I'm just… surprised. They're really a thing?" I asked.

Potter nodded. "They are. He's been good for her, actually. She never used to leave work at a normal hour."

With a chuckle, I said, "That doesn't shock me at all." After a moment, as we watched them disappear together, I slipped up and added, "Is she happy?"

"Seems to be. Blaise really helped her through a lot over the past year. She had been seeing someone else and it ended badly. She lost herself for awhile."

I couldn't even fathom Hermione Granger losing herself over a man. It just seemed… wrong on every possible level. I found myself wondering who could've held that amount of power over her.

"You know, I always fancied her," I admitted. "Even up til the day I got married. I've never met anyone else like her."

"You're married, Malfoy," he snapped. "Don't even think about going near her."

I held my hands up in surrender. "I know that. I wasn't saying that I'm going to go after her, Potter. It just sort of slipped out."

With a deep breath, he said, "Good. I'm sorry. I've just watched her go through so much over the past year. I don't think she'd be able to handle mental whiplash from you."

Wanting to end this exchange, I simply nodded and headed for an open Floo. I heard Potter call out that he'd see me tomorrow and vanished, my mind fixated on the idea of having to watch Blaise with the girl of my dreams every day for the foreseeable future.

* * *

When I arrived back at the Manor, Astoria was having tea with my mother, Scorpius playing at their feet. I was almost excited she was there; it gave my mother a reason not to ask what I'd gotten Astoria for our anniversary. I strode over and scooped Scorp up, tossing him into the air. He laughed and smiled, easing every bit of tension I'd felt throughout the day out of my body.

"Draco, where have you been?" Astoria asked.

Thinking quickly, I replied, "I had a healer appointment and then I spent some time out and about. I want to start reintegrating, so I took the day to myself."

She had a sceptical look on her face, but she didn't dare fight me on it in front of my mother. Instead, she forced a smile and said, "That's wonderful. Maybe we can take a trip to Diagon Alley with Scorpius over the weekend if the weather cooperates."

"I don't see why we couldn't."

From there, my mother invited us to stay for dinner since we were already at the Manor and Father was out of town. Knowing she was likely lonely, I relented, even though the last thing I wanted to do was listen to a whole bunch of idle chit chat and gossip from the tea that Astoria had attended earlier in the day.

Halfway through the meal, I cleared my throat and asked the most pressing question I had. "Stori, will you be able to take care of Scorpius tomorrow?"

"He's my son, Draco. I'll always take care of him," she said, a confused expression on her face.

"I should've asked if you'll be home. Sorry. I have an appointment," I began. "I'll be out for most of the day." My mother and Astoria both looked at me, waiting for further explanation. "I'm… well, you'll see soon enough. It's a surprise."

My mother, likely thinking I was referring to Astoria's anniversary gift, quickly chimed in, "I can take Scorpius if you've got plans, Astoria. I'll just be here for most of the day, waiting for Lucius to return."

When Astoria looked at me, I saw worry written across her face. It made me feel slightly guilty, but I knew I was doing the right thing for me. In a way, it was the right thing for our family in general. The Malfoy name had been dragged out of the mud, but it wasn't yet back to its former glory. I wanted Scorpius to grow up in a world where his father wasn't only known as the youngest Death Eater ever.

I wanted to be more. I wanted to be someone he could be proud of.

"It's okay, Narcissa. I'll be home tomorrow. It'll be a mummy and Scorpius day," Astoria said quietly.

Looking at my mother, I smiled. "That's great, Astoria. I'll get home to you two as quickly as possible."

* * *

When I arrived at the Ministry the next morning, Security sent for Potter. After a perfunctory greeting, he led me to a conference room in another department.

"Okay, I'm going to sit with you while you take this exam, Malfoy," he said. "Like I said, I don't want anyone to know that you're coming back until it's official. There's no sense in causing a big fuss."

I scoffed. "Are you honestly worried I'm not going to pass this written exam?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. I'm sure you're going to pass with flying colours, but you haven't talked to your family yet."

"How do you know that?"

"That fiasco of a birthday dinner," he replied. "Astoria didn't want you coming back to work, and your parents seemed ambivalent about it at best."

I had honestly forgotten that Potter had been there to witness the insanity.

"And on top of that, didn't Astoria want to have another baby? Did you two ever start trying?" Potter asked.

"No!" I said quickly. "I won't have another child. She wants it, but she carries a blood curse, Potter. Every child that we have is at risk for it, especially if we have a girl."

A look of sympathy crossed his face. "I'm sorry to hear that, Draco."

Shrugging, I said, "Can we just get started here? I want to get home at some point today, and I need to go and buy her an anniversary gift."

Again, Potter looked uncomfortable. "Absolutely. You have two hours to finish this packet."

I took a deep breath and opened it up. The moment I saw the first question, my stomach settled. This was going to be easy.

The hard part would be talking to my family.

* * *

I'd passed the exam, and Potter had officially offered me my job back. I was so excited it felt like I had drank Felix Felicis.

After a quick conversation, I'd decided on starting in early May. I wanted to give Astoria and my parents time to adjust to the idea. Potter seemed fine with that, though he did look a bit hesitant. He told me to owl him the following week to confirm.

When I'd decided to contact Potter, I hadn't thought this process would move so fast. Hell, even after we'd met initially, I thought it would take weeks to get myself re-certified. Even though I hadn't used any of my skills in years, they hadn't diminished; I didn't need any retraining.

My head was nearly spinning, my mind whirring with possibilities and excited anticipation.

Leaving the Ministry, I went and bought Astoria a set of diamond earrings. It may have been a lazy choice of gift, but my father had taught me that diamonds could be a witch's best friend, and they were the most magnificent ones I'd seen in quite some time. The shape was similar to the Malfoy ring, making it look like a set.

I stowed the earrings deep in my robe pockets and quickly Apparated home. The house was empty, so I hid the earrings in my study and tried to figure out where Astoria had gone. She hadn't left a note or any indication of where she was. It wasn't the warmest day, so I knew she wouldn't have taken Scorpius to play outdoors…

Remembering my mother's offer, I decided to check the Manor next. When I appeared in the sitting room, Scorpius laughed and clapped. He pointed and said, "Dadadadada!"

Laughing, I walked over and repeated the same greeting I'd given him yesterday, tossing him into the air and making him giggle and squeal. "What did you and Mummy do today, Scorp?"

Astoria cleared her throat. "We just did the usual — some reading, lunch, and visiting over here."

Nodding, I sat in one of the vacant armchairs, setting Scorpius down on the floor. He toddled over to my mother, and I noticed she was scrutinizing me. I was wearing traditional robes with Muggle clothes underneath them, the way I'd seen Potter and Blaise dressed the previous day, and I mentally cursed at myself.

But she didn't say anything.

"Lucius should be home soon," she stated. "I think we should all have dinner together again."

I bit my tongue and decided that I would just get it over with tonight. I'd tell everyone I was going back to work.

* * *

Seated at the dining table, I listened to my father drone on about his meetings. In my head, I thanked myself for having the sense to stay away from his business dealings. It all sounded utterly dull.

"—be gone again in a few weeks' time. I know that it's soon, but I need to get a handle on some things," my father said.

My mother reassured him, supporting his professional life. "Lucius, dear, I know that you don't like to be away from your family. If you have to travel, I know it's an urgent business matter. Get things taken care of and come home like you always do."

In response, my father smiled at her affectionately.

Steeling myself, I jumped in. "And, while we're on the topic of work, I need to let everyone know that I'll be returning to the DMLE in early May."

Astoria's eyes widened in shock, and my parents were both speechless. The only sound in the room was coming from Scorpius as he happily babbled while eating his dinner.

"Draco, I don't think that's such a good idea," Astoria coaxed, her voice gentle.

I turned my head to the side, looking at her. "Did you think I was studying for no reason at all, Astoria? I was getting ready to take my re-entrance exams. I passed today."

"You told me you weren't planning on going back," she stated, her tone strengthening.

Running my fingers through my fringe, I said, "I know. I know I said I wasn't going to, but I need to. I don't think you truly understand how miserable I am right now. I need to be useful—"

"You're more useful alive and caring for your son than you will be if you're killed in a duel, Draco," Astoria hissed, glaring at me. "I can't believe you're going to make me go through this all over again — the late nights, the trips, the worrying."

"Astoria, I talked to Potter—"

"I don't care!" she shouted, tossing her napkin down on the table. "Excuse me. I need to freshen up."

I was clearly making a mess of everything right now, pissing my wife off and making my parents worry.

My mother spoke up. "Draco, why do you want to do this? You still don't have your memory back. It could be very dangerous for you to rejoin the Aurors. You need to think about your wife and son. It's not only you now."

"I don't like just sitting at home, and Potter told me I was good at this. From the way you two were accepted at the holiday ball, I'm sure I've done some good to restore the family name by working as a Auror. I don't want Scorpius to be tainted by my past," I explained. "I don't want him to be known as the son of the youngest Death Eater to be Marked. I want the name Malfoy to be something positive before he goes off to Hogwarts surrounded by Weasleys and Potters and… Well, maybe little Zabinis."

My father had visibly stiffened as my explanation went on. "Draco, do you think that Potter and Weasley will tell their children about the war? About you, specifically?"

"No, Father, but our name is infamous. I'm sure that they'll all hear it in history classes and Scorpius will likely be the only Malfoy there," I said.

My father nodded, understanding. After all, we'd both been only children. "You're right, there won't be many children from our side at Hogwarts. I understand that, but why do you feel the need to go on suicide missions to appease the Golden Trio?"

Running a hand through my fringe, I gathered my thoughts. "It's not to appease them. It's to atone for the horrible things I did when I was younger. I treated all three of them, especially Granger, like they were less than scum. And then I joined the Inquisitorial Squad and got even worse. And then I took the Dark Mark—"

Abruptly, my father rose from the table, his voice booming in the dining room. "Draco, you had to! Your mother was in danger, and I was in Azkaban! You need to let go of this guilt. It was ten years ago, and you already worked as an Auror for five. Let someone else track the rest of them down. Let Blaise do it — he's a single man with no children; he captured Antonin and Rabastan, and killed Rodolphus just a few weeks ago."

Getting to my feet, I met my father's eyes. I was a bit taller than him now, and I knew it made him uncomfortable. "He's not single. Haven't you seen the papers? He's got his hands all over Hermione Granger."

He looked away and said, "They're not married. They don't have children. They're not a proper family."

"She's brilliant and gorgeous and strong. He won't let her get away. Who wouldn't want to marry her?" I blurted, not catching my slip of the tongue.

Both my parents froze, staring at Astoria in the doorway. I saw the anxiety crossing her face and she wouldn't look me in the eyes. However, she did glance at my father, and he stayed quiet.

"This is getting out of hand," my mother began. "Everyone sit back down to dinner. We will continue discussing Draco's return to work after the meal. Scorpius is sensing the tension in the room, and it's not good for him."

Taking a deep breath, I was the first to sit down. "I'm sorry. I should've waited until after to bring it up. I didn't think it would cause this much of a stir."

Astoria sat beside me, keeping her eyes cast down towards her demure dress, crossing her legs at the ankles like all pureblood girls were taught to do at a young age. I watched as she folded her hands in her lap and refused to eat. My comments about Granger had probably upset her, but they couldn't be helped. My father had been dismissing her like she wasn't a viable option for Blaise, and I couldn't stand it.

As much as I was envious of Blaise, I wanted Hermione Granger to get a happy ending, to find a little sliver of happiness in the world that had caused her so much pain when she was younger. If that was with him, well, at least I'd have the opportunity to be friends with her again.

If I could ever figure out why he had put so much distance between us and fix it.

The rest of the meal passed in an uncomfortable silence that was only broken by the over-exuberant toddler making noises and kicking at his highchair. Astoria stood and moved to the other side of Scorpius, tending to him.

"Excuse me. I'm going to get him cleaned up and take him up to the nursery," she said.

My mother gave me a pointed look as Astoria walked out, and I sighed.

"You owe her an apology. She's been nothing but kind and wonderful to you since your accident, and you just basically announced that you'd prefer Hermione Granger to her."

"I didn't mean it that way at all. She should know that."

My father cleared his throat. "It is always sensible to apologise to one's wife. I wouldn't discount your mother's advice. As a matter of fact, I think you should go and buy her something new from the jeweller for the Victory Ball. Something expensive."

_Of course he would give advice like that. Piss your wife off, spend Galleons to fix it. Don't talk it through. Just buy pretty things to fix it._

Soon enough, we moved into the sitting room and my mother tentatively began the conversation we'd tabled. "Draco, are you sure there is nothing else you could do? Rather than being an Auror, I mean. There are other ways to restore the family name."

Astoria and my father both nodded their agreement, but they didn't speak. I had been hoping they would so I had more time to think.

"I know I'm good at it. Potter told me I was one of the best, and I did my own preliminary work rather than passing it off to Granger like most of the others do," I recounted. "And, on top of that, what if some other sect of dark wizards begins? I'd have more power to fight against them as an Auror. I will not be sucked into the darkness and used as a puppet again."

"I don't think that will ever happen again," my father said. "The Dark Lord… he was one of a kind. I'm sure Potter and his friends are doing something to monitor those who lean toward the darker side of things."

"Don't you get it, Father? I don't want our family included on that list! I don't want anyone targeting you or Mother or Astoria or Scorpius because we're seen as a 'dark' family," I stated in an assertive voice. "I want everyone to know that I stand against the Dark Arts, that I will never be that same scared man again."

Astoria grabbed my hand, lacing her fingers through mine and surprising me. She squeezed it and looked at me. "Okay, Draco. I can see this is important to you. I don't think you need to do it, but if you want to do it, or need to do it for whatever reason, I will support you to the best of my ability."

I leaned forward and kissed her lips softly, trying to send her a suggestive look before turning my head back towards my parents. "I will be as careful as humanly possible. I don't want to leave Scorpius and Astoria or either of you. Father, we may have our differences, but I've always"—I wanted to say loved, but no one expressed love and softer emotions to Lucius Malfoy—"always cared for you and respected you. I may want to be a different man than you were, but it doesn't change a thing."

A resigned acceptance fell over the room, and I started to relax. Astoria sat beside me on the small loveseat, clutching at my hand like I'd slip through her fingers at any moment. I kissed her temple from time to time, and I whispered, "I'm sorry, Stori."

My conflicted emotions were rolling through me in full force, the memories that had confused me from the start replaying over and over. Affection and annoyance, love and loathing, happiness and sorrow. More than ever, I wanted to know how I'd felt before the accident.

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, so I figured she was still a bit put out. Maybe I would have to take Father's advice, after all.

The diamond earrings would probably make an appearance before our anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now you can see where we're going... Let me know what you think!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, leaving kudos, likes, comments, reviews... Whatever they're called from site to site, I'm so grateful that you've taken the time to read this.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as potionchemist or on Facebook as K Potion Chemist.


	18. Hermione - April 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter I was going to post today was a little short so I combined it with the next one. They were both Hermione and work together pretty well, and you get a peek of past Draco, so I hope you enjoy!

Since the night Blaise had returned from Russia seven weeks ago, we'd been nearly inseparable. From the time I woke up in the morning until the moment I fell asleep, he consumed every part of me, every hour of my day. I'd been spending every night in his bed, growing more and more addicted to his touch. Even thinking about him made me shiver with arousal, and I felt like my heart was almost on the same page as my body.

Deep down, I knew I was growing dependent on him, the way I had grown dependent on Draco. I was substituting one vice for another. However, unlike Draco, Blaise was an appropriate choice of partner. He was mine, and I was his. There was no one else in the picture for either of us. On top of that, I knew this was likely just the honeymoon phase. Everything about our relationship was still new and exciting, and I was sure that I'd eventually need some space.

I was just enjoying the happiness while it lasted.

I didn't want to be with Draco, still sneaking around as his mistress. No, that was definitely not what I needed. I wanted what I had with Blaise, a partner, someone who I could make a life with. I didn't want complicated. I wanted to be in love, like Harry and Pansy were. I wasn't there yet with Blaise, but he was there with me, and that was half the battle.

With Blaise around, I'd even managed to forget all about Draco and Astoria's anniversary until after it had already passed. On that date, he had kept me very, very busy, and I was grateful for it. I hadn't ended up a teary mess or fallen to pieces like I had the previous year. I hadn't obsessed over the new batch of photos from Paris. I felt like I had truly moved on — the third of April was just another day of the year now.

I'd made so much progress in such a short amount of time. After feeling miserable for so long, I was happy to finally have some joy in my life again. Honestly, Blaise seemed like my reward after the struggle, the rainbow after the storm.

Every time he touched me, I wanted more — more of him, more of the feelings he stirred in me, more of the way he made me forget everything that had happened over the past year and a half. Just _more_.

Somehow, I was sure he'd been talking to Harry, taking only missions that would keep him in the UK so he could come home to me just about every night. Hell, we were even together in the office most days, sharing lunch and enjoying the newness of our relationship.

When he finally started going on missions again, I would more than likely ache for him, spend my days and nights wishing he was there.

Inside my head, I silently hoped that I'd be able to handle it better than I had before Russia. I didn't want to be worrying, drawing parallels where there weren't any.

I loved the little bubble of happiness and lust we'd found ourselves in. I didn't want it to pop and ruin everything.

All I could do was hope.

* * *

In mid-April, fate decided it was time to test our relationship.

Blaise was summoned to Italy by his mother, likely because another one of her husbands had died mysteriously, and I was left on my own. I slept in my own bed that night, and it felt empty. In such a short time, I'd grown used to sleeping in a tangle of limbs, Blaise wrapped around my body after we'd finished shagging. I woke more than once throughout the night, and it took me quite some time to get back to sleep. While I was tossing and turning, I noticed I was now back to sleeping on one side of the bed rather than in the middle, even when I was alone.

At half seven, I gave up and got out of bed. Blaise wasn't sure when he'd be back, so I spent the morning soaking in the tub and finishing a novel. The hot water felt good around my skin, and I was comfortable submerged beneath it. When the book was done, I felt somewhat restless.

After stepping out of the tub, I dried myself from head to toe. Looking out the window, I saw it was an unseasonably beautiful day, the sun shining down and the birds chirping away. I pulled on a pair of fitted jeans — ones I was actually starting to fill out again now that I was almost back to my normal weight — and a cream colored jumper. I slipped my feet into tall brown leather boots and tied my hair into a messy knot at the back of my head.

Grabbing my coat and my iPod, I started walking towards town. My music blaring in my ears, it felt like most of the world had fallen away. This walk felt very different than it had right after the Obliviation; I wasn't crying or thinking of Draco when my song changed. I wasn't worrying about what I'd do without him.

No, instead I was filled with hope that I was really moving on, and that the next stage of my life was just around the corner. My mobile vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out, smiling at a message from Blaise.

_Be home for dinnertime. Get some takeout and meet me at mine around 7? Missed you last night. So much._

I responded in the affirmative, telling him I'd be there. However, I was struck with the sudden urge to cook for him, and I knew I'd have to head to Diagon Alley to pick up a couple of things, so I decided to do my shopping there. Once I'd retrieved my latte from the coffee shop, I walked back into the woods again, making sure I wasn't visible to any Muggles, and Disapparated.

* * *

When I landed in Diagon Alley, the street was filled with witches and wizards. I quickly moved to Flourish and Blotts, picking up a couple of things I had on reserve. I was devouring books again, and that was maybe the part of myself I had missed the most. When I was in mourning, I hadn't been able to just get lost in a story, lost in the words on a page. Now I was able to immerse myself again, my focus not slipping from the books to the love I'd essentially banished from my life.

After that, I quickly moved through the market, casting charms over the food I'd picked up to keep it fresh. In my head, I had been planning an elaborate meal for Blaise's homecoming, and I was barely paying attention to my surroundings. When I left the shop, I looked up and saw both platinum and golden blonde and froze.

The man was undeniably Draco; he and Astoria were walking down the street very slowly, their shoulders two or three feet apart. There was a cafe next to the market, and I quickly sat down at one of the small tables. I watched them, my heart beating in my throat. It was the first time I had seen him, or Astoria, in almost eighteen months. And from my new position, I could see why there was so much space between them.

Scorpius was holding onto one of each of their hands, wearing a warm coat and hat, his blond hair peeking out from underneath it. Astoria said something, and Draco smiled at her. My emotions crashed through me, twisting and warping.

I hadn't been expecting this. I knew it would happen eventually, but I thought it would be at a function or at the Ministry or really anywhere but in the middle of wizarding London.

And I didn't think I'd see all three of them, looking like an idyllic family, the first time.

At that moment, I knew I had to get away. I couldn't just stay here and watch them walk along the street with their perfect little boy. So, I did the only thing I could think of — I started making my way towards the Apparition point.

"Excuse me!" a woman said, and I nearly kept walking. I should have. I really should have. But I couldn't when I saw the curly-haired little girl looking up at me.

"Are you Hermione Granger?" the little girl asked. "I think I recognize you from your Chocolate Frog card!"

I leaned down a bit so I could meet her eyes. At least she'd given me something else to focus on. "I am," I confirmed. "What's your name?"

"Samantha. I'm going to be starting at Hogwarts in the fall! I just found out last week when I turned eleven!"

Her words reverberated in my head. She just found out. I looked at her mother. "You're non-magical?" I asked.

She nodded, looking afraid. "It's all… it's a lot to take in."

"My parents thought so, too. Though they were glad they hadn't been hallucinating my magic," I quipped. "Samantha, have you bought a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_?"

The girl nodded eagerly. "You're in there! Did you know that? I read about the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk and Dumbledore's Army!"

I laughed, trying to brush off the uncomfortable feeling some of those memories brought me now. The writer who'd updated the book had made our adventures sound commonplace, when really they were anything but. "Well, I can see that you've done a lot of reading since last week!" My voice sounded more enthusiastic than I actually felt. "But don't worry, Samantha, you won't have to deal with anything like that. I can assure you Hogwarts is very safe now. In fact, I visit the headmistress quite often."

"I wouldn't mind if it did! I hope I'm in Gryffindor like you," she said.

Smiling at her, I told her that all of the houses had both positive and negative qualities and that the Sorting Hat would make the best choice for her.

I rose and shook her mother's hand. "Please rest assured that the wizarding world is much different than it was when I went to Hogwarts. There is nothing for you to worry about. If you speak with Minerva McGonagall, she'll set you up with an owl and a Floo call schedule. You have a fireplace at home, yes?" The woman nodded. "You'll be able to speak with Samantha that way. We're aiming to really integrate non-magical parents into the world more than we have in the past. It's a hard transition."

"Thank you. I know you're somewhat of a celebrity, so thank you for stopping," she replied.

I shook my head. "It's not a problem at all. If you do get an owl, feel free to send me one any time. What's your name?"

"Sharon Ames."

"It was nice to meet you. I do have to run, but like I said, please feel free to get my contact information from Minerva or just send me an owl," I said before walking away.

I kept my head down, not wanting to be stopped again, and I crashed straight into someone. When I looked up, I was met with grey eyes and a smirk, and I nearly died on the spot. I grabbed Draco's shirt, trying to steady myself, and Astoria looked over at me, worry written across her face. However, I couldn't have cared less about her in that moment. No, instead I gazed up at Draco, his eyes twinkling at me.

_When had they crossed the street?_

"Granger, you can let go now," he stated.

_Fuck. Why now? Why was this happening to me now? Things were just starting to get better…_

The reply of " _Sorry, Malfoy_ " that escaped my lips felt wrong. He was Draco, but I couldn't be so familiar with him. We were cordial coworkers before his accident, and that was all…

I heard a throat clear, and Astoria said, "We need to go, Draco. Your father is expecting us at the Manor."

At the mention of Lucius, I released his shirt and stepped back, but his eyes remained focused on me, looking me up and down from head to toe.

Just then, Scorpius started babbling, trying to get Draco's attention, and the moment was over. He bent down to grab him, something that looked so natural to him now, and he said, "Scorp, wave to Granger. We need to get to your grandfather's house."

Hearing _Granger_ hurt, especially since it was said in a normal tone, not the teasing, happy way he used to say it.

Scorpius waved, and Astoria grabbed Draco's arm, pulling him away from me once more. When Scorpius distracted him, she turned her head back and shot me a sly little smile, and I knew she was taunting me — telling me that she'd won in the end. She had Draco and Scorpius, and I'd run into them when I was alone. Not with Blaise.

I continued to the Apparition point and spun on the spot, landing in my kitchen and collapsing into the armchair, replaying the mantra in my head.

_It was for the best._

_He has a son._

_He has a wife._

_He doesn't even know what he's missing, what I'm missing._

_Lucius will kill my parents if I don't stay away from him._

_It was for the best._

The tears came after the initial shock wore off, and I welcomed them. Feeling something, even sadness like this, was preferable to feeling emotionally numb. On top of that, I knew I'd be seeing Blaise soon, and I needed to get it all out now. I didn't think I could break down like this in front of him; he'd get the wrong idea.

I considered my feelings after seeing Draco. My heart had swelled and cracked, but it wasn't anything like the way it had been before. I thought I might be able to put it back together, or repair the fracture lines on my own. I still loved him; I knew I always would. Blaise knew that, too. It was just one more reason why he was perfect for me.

I'd only seen Draco in passing. As long as it wasn't a constant thing, I could survive it. I could cry it out and put myself back together before anyone really knew how much his presence affected me.

A whisper of a memory came through the recesses of my mind; Draco's voice taunting me, trying to get me to fall back into old patterns, thinking of the good times when I was certain he loved me.

_"You can fall apart in front of me, Granger," he said, his voice low, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "I won't tell anyone."_

_He kissed me sweetly, coaxing me in the way only he could. His tongue stroked over my closed lips and I let him in — to both my mouth and my heart._

_When I broke away, it felt like everything had changed._

_The tears streamed down my cheeks as I told him about my greatest failure, the one thing I hadn't been able to succeed at — restoring my parents memories. I'd received yet another letter from the Australian healers. They were doing well — perfectly healthy — but there was still no way to reverse the Memory Charm. It had gone back too far, modifying nearly eighteen years of their lives._

_After six years, the healers were giving up, refusing to continue visiting them twice a year to see if anything had shaken loose._

_They'd have to live out their lives as Wendell and Monica Wilkins in Australia, never knowing they'd had a daughter._

_"Oh, Hermione," he soothed, running his hands up and down my spine. "We can look for answers ourselves. We can try to find a way to fix it. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you had to do this to save them."_

_His apologies had been so sincere, but I couldn't let him blame himself…_

Suddenly, I snapped out of it. I couldn't let myself think about all the times he'd shown me his heart, the one that he hid from nearly everyone else, even though it was so big and full of love. I had to focus on the bad times, the reasons why I'd gone through with the Obliviation without really thinking about it.

I took deep breaths in and let them out, trying to calm myself.

And then I did something I promised myself I wouldn't. I took the journal down off my shelf and started penning a letter to Draco.

If I got everything I was feeling down on the page, it would be out of the forefront of my mind. I couldn't let it stand in the way of my relationship with Blaise, and I couldn't start pining for Draco again.

I just couldn't.

* * *

It had been two days since I'd seen Draco in Diagon Alley and I'd been on edge ever since. Somehow, I'd managed to pull myself together before Blaise arrived home, burying my pain deep down inside of me. I knew it was wrong to hide it from him, but imagining how he'd look at me if he knew stopped me.

No, instead I'd kept quiet and we'd had a perfectly lovely night. I cooked dinner like I had planned and we'd fallen into bed like it had been a normal day, and I'd held it all down until I Apparated home the following morning. As soon as I landed in my kitchen, I'd seen the journal on the table and cracked it open, re-reading the entry I'd written the previous day.

I'd said that Astoria had won, that I was totally alone.

But had Astoria really won? Yes, she had Draco, but was a relationship built entirely on lies even real? If I hadn't modified his memories, I was sure he'd still be in my bed more often than hers, if not every night. He never would've stopped pursuing me.

Maybe he even would've left her.

And, while I'd been physically alone in Diagon Alley, I wasn't _really_ alone. I had someone — I had Blaise — who was devoted to me, who loved me on his own, no spells required. He loved me and I knew I loved him, even if I wasn't quite _in love_ with him yet. After everything with Draco, he'd brought me back to life, and I would be forever in his debt for it.

Guilt flooded me. As soon as I had seen Draco and looked into his eyes, I had forgotten all about Blaise until after I'd cried it out. No amount of photos or pretty words from Narcissa and Lucius could've prepared me for that moment. He was Draco, but not _my_ Draco. Once again, he'd been hiding behind a mask, using his Malfoy pride as a shield to keep people at a distance.

For a moment, when he was looking into my eyes, I felt like he had really seen me, like he knew everything about me again. I almost forgot that he didn't remember me, that he couldn't really know what it felt like for me to touch him again, even if it was just his arm and just for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes. It was Monday morning, and it was time for work. I had to get it together before Blaise got out of the shower — I still wasn't ready to tell him what had happened. I had to push it all back down, to Occlude until it was buried in an impenetrable place in my brain. Dreaming of Draco's eyes again wasn't conducive to moving on and falling in love with Blaise.

I'd been fine until the run-in in Diagon Alley, and I would be fine again. I could survive seeing him every so often. It wasn't much different from a memory of an anniversary or a birthday. Sure, I'd been able to feel the warmth of his skin and smell the scent of his cologne, but I remembered experiencing those things anyway.

In fact, after seeing him in person, I remembered them like no time had passed at all.

* * *

The first half of the week passed in the same fashion. I woke up drowning in guilt because I was hiding my accidental run-in with Draco from Blaise. After tamping it down, I slogged through the day at work, trying desperately to keep my brain busy so I didn't have time to think. In the evening, I kept losing myself in Blaise. Every time he asked me if I was okay, I kissed him senseless and seduced him.

By Thursday, I was almost back to normal. I'd managed to bury the whole encounter without crushing Blaise's heart. While I knew it wasn't the healthiest decision, I couldn't stand the thought of hurting him.

That was love, right?

On Friday morning, I was sitting in my office, daydreaming about the upcoming weekend. The simple act of hoping for the weekend so I could spend my time wrapped up in my little bubble of happiness was new for me, as well. I no longer had to worry about spending the weekend at home all by myself. No, in fact, I'd barely been to my house at all over the past few weeks.

As images of Blaise's naked body played in my brain, I relaxed into my office chair. I could feel my blood heating, my heart rate picking up, my knickers dampening…

And then there was a knock on my door and Harry walked in.

"Hermione, we need to talk," he said, and I immediately went on high alert, thinking there was a major threat to the wizarding world.

I gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs across from me, but he wouldn't.

"What's going on?" I asked, concerned by his odd behaviour.

Like every other time he was anxious, Harry ran both hands through his hair, tugging on the ends. "I don't know how to tell you this, and I was trying to wait for Blaise, but I can't put it off anymore."

"You're scaring me."

He sighed and finally slumped into a chair. Looking me straight in the eyes, he said, "Malfoy is coming back to work next month. It seems he still wants to be an Auror."

Stunned, I was momentarily silent, my breath catching in my throat and my whole body going rigid. As my brain processed what Harry said, I snapped out of the initial shock.

"He can't! There are too many holes in his memory! It's not safe!"

"He's been cleared for duty by St. Mungo's and the Ministry, Hermione. He's passed all of the re-entrance exams. There is nothing I can do to stop it, unless you want to tell everyone what really happened to him," he responded.

_No. No, no, no, no. I can't. I can't do this. I can't see him every day. But I can't tell anyone what I've done!_

And then something clicked in my brain. "He had to take re-entrance exams? And get cleared by healers? How long have you known he wanted to come back?"

I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't want to answer the question. "Since mid-March."

"And you're just telling me now?" I shrieked. "How could you do that, Harry? How could you act like it's not a big deal?"

"Things with you and Blaise were going so well," he said in a pleading tone. "I didn't want to mess things up. You were happy again. I was hoping that Astoria would put a stop to him coming back. She was fighting him on it—"

I felt like the walls were closing in on me. Things had just started to get better. I was recovering. I was happy. I wasn't thinking about Draco every fucking day anymore.

And now he was coming back.

I would see him almost every single day again.

Instead of his memory haunting me, it would be _him._ In the flesh.

My breath started to come faster and faster as Draco's face appeared in my mind and I thought about working with him again. I'd be trapped in the same space as him, my mind full of the memories of us together while he had no idea. How was I supposed to act around him? How was I supposed to think clearly?

How was I supposed to forget about him when he was right in front of me?

Panic flooded me, much in the way it had many times the previous year. I couldn't bear to be in the office, and I didn't want anyone to see me truly break down. Wanting nothing more than to hide, my brain quickly came up with the obvious response:

_I needed to go home — to my house — immediately. Before Blaise returned to the office and saw me falling apart at the seams. I needed to sort this all out in my head, write in my journal, talk to Penelope… something._

"Hermione!" Harry said, his voice breaking through the fog. "Answer me!"

"I need to go," I said, rising from my desk chair. "I need to get out of here."

As I started throwing my personal items in my handbag, he grabbed my upper arms. "Hermione, talk to me. I can see you're panicking—"

"Of course I'm fucking panicking! You just dropped this on me like it was absolutely nothing, Harry! I can't even look at you right now."

His eyes welled up. "I know. I just — I didn't know how to tell you. I knew you'd be upset, and—"

"Telling me when I'm alone and when it's already a done deal was definitely _not_ the way to go about it. Now let me go," I snapped, pulling away from him. "I need to leave before anyone sees me get upset."

Taking a step back, he asked, "Where are you going?"

As much as I wanted to tell him it was none of his business, I knew that would upset both him and Blaise, and Blaise certainly didn't deserve it.

"My house to start. I might see if I can get an appointment with Penelope. And I might write to Lucius," I replied. "I'm not certain what will help me right now, but I know I can't stay here today."

"What do you want me to tell Blaise?"

I took a deep breath and thought about it for a moment. "I want you to tell him the truth. Tell him that you dropped this on me out of nowhere and I needed to get out for the day. Tell him to call me if he wants to check on me. I'm going to try not to shut him out."

A moment later I was gone, striding down the hallways of the Ministry towards the lift. I was barely holding it together, but I'd managed thus far. Praying that Blaise was still delayed at his flat, I rode the lift and nearly ran for the Floo. As soon as I reached it, I called out my address and was transported to my kitchen, immediately falling to my knees as the tears started.

Once I'd let the sorrow crash through me, I summoned the journal again. I hadn't written in it in months, and now I was running for it twice in one week.

Everything was changing again and I couldn't cope.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_I just found out that you're coming back to work. I'm going to have to see you every single day. I'm going to have to look you in the face and lie to you over and over again. With all the scenarios I've anticipated over the past year and a half, I never considered that you'd come back to the DMLE. It looks like I'm in for a special kind of punishment now._

_Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to manage. Things were just starting to be good for me again. I think I'm falling in love with Blaise, and now you're coming back, and I don't know what to do. Obviously you won't remember anything that happened between us, but I remember everything and I don't know how to handle that. I don't know if I can cope with what I did and carry on with my life if I have to see you every day._

_As soon as Harry told me, I ran out of the office. I came home, to our little house, as you used to call it, and I'm writing to you again. Merlin, it's been months since I did this, but I needed to get it all out. I haven't been in a panic like this in a very, very long time, and it's knocked me down completely. And if Blaise had been with me when Harry told me… I'm sure he would've been crushed. Completely devastated by my reaction._

_I just… I don't know how to exist in the same space as you when you're not really the you that I knew before. I'm so nervous that you'll treat me differently — like you used to before we had the affair — and I don't know if I can handle that. I don't know if I can handle being ignored or stared at or even breathing the same air as you._

_I don't know what I'll feel when I smell your cologne or if our arms brush in passing._

_I don't know if I still love you because I haven't been near you. I haven't had to be near you._

_I thought that if I ever saw you again, it would be a quick hello or a smile across a crowded room at a ball. Or maybe at Platform 9_ _3_ _4_ _. I never, ever would've imagined daily interactions or forced proximity in meetings. I never would've imagined watching you and Blaise leave on a mission together again, and now I'm thinking about that, and my head and heart are just a jumbled mess._

_I'm going to owl Penelope and set up an appointment. I don't know how I'll explain this situation to her, but I know I can't do this alone. I need help. I refuse to let myself sink back down into depression, and I refuse to sabotage my relationship with Blaise because I'm freaked out about seeing you again. If I can move on from you — and I've proven I can — then I can certainly stay moved on from you._

_Hermione xx_

* * *

After hastily writing the letter to Draco, I found myself in my bedroom, kneeling in front of the trunk that contained his memories and everything else. It had been well over a year since I'd opened it, and I knew I was putting myself in danger if I did it now. As much as I wanted to stay in the happy place I'd been living in for the past four months, I felt like it was about to be smashed to bits.

Again, I considered what to do. My hands were on the latches, and I'd already cancelled the locking charm on the chest. With a deep breath, I pulled my hands off it and sat back on my heels. Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing in and out slowly, trying to quell the panic running through my system.

I was disgusted to find myself in front of this trunk again. I was furious that I was considering slipping back into bad habits like looking through the photos or reading the notes he'd left me over the years. It wasn't a smart thing to do, and I thought about how Blaise would feel if he found me sitting here. When an image of his disappointed face flashed through my mind, my eyes popped open. My hands were twisting together in my lap and my stomach was churning.

"I can't fucking do this," I said aloud. "I won't do this. Not to myself, and not to Blaise."

_Regardless, Draco doesn't fucking remember our relationship. Getting lost in the memories is not going to help me. It's going to hurt me._

The words in my head were starting to make sense, and I rose, pointing my wand at the chest. I locked it again and stepped back. I was still staring at it, still fixated on the items inside, but I wouldn't allow myself to open it.

I forced myself to leave the bedroom.

When I got back downstairs, I started manically cleaning. I didn't even change out of my work clothes. I just started sweeping and dusting and clearing away all the signs of disuse the house was showing. It wasn't lived in — hadn't been lived in — for over a month. And when I thought about that, I started questioning if things with Blaise were moving too fast, something I hadn't been questioning before.

As I grew more and more frustrated with myself, I looked for more and more chores to do.

_How could Astoria and Lucius let him come back to work? Why wouldn't they find a way to stop him? Why did they suddenly not care if he saw me every day? Was he properly in love with her? Did they think my relationship with Blaise would keep me away from him? Will my relationship with Blaise keep me away from him? Or keep him away from me?_

The questions were seemingly endless.

When I stopped cleaning for a moment, I looked around the ground floor of my house. It was spotless, and that made me wonder how long I'd been at it. Checking my watch, I saw it was past lunchtime, and I thought it was strange that I hadn't heard from Blaise at all.

I reached into my bag, grabbing my mobile. I had ten missed calls. Five from Blaise and five from Harry.

Fuck.

Just as I was about to dial Blaise, my Floo activated and he came through, looking panicked.

"I'm sorry!" I said, throwing myself into his arms. "I left my phone in my bag and you know what the Extension Charm does to it! I just saw the calls."

"Merlin, Tesoro, you had me worried," he replied, crushing me against his chest. "Potter told me everything. I hexed him for telling you when I wasn't there."

"Did you use a good one?" I asked.

Blaise laughed, and I heard the sound rumbling in his chest. "You're in a better mood than I thought you would be."

"Now I am," I admitted. "I was in a state earlier."

"I can imagine," he said, kissing the top of my head. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Did I want to talk about it?

Deep down, I knew we _should_ talk about it… but I just couldn't. Just like the run-in in Diagon Alley, I couldn't put this into words that wouldn't hurt him.

Rather than saying no, I said, "Not yet."

I felt Blaise's hand stroke over my curls and he held me tighter. "You're not saying we won't talk about it?"

"Of course not," I replied. "I just need some time to process."

"Should I be worried that you didn't come to me right away, Hermione?" he asked.

_I don't know? Maybe? I hope not._

"No. Like I said, I just need to process, I think."

Pulling back, he tilted my face up, forcing me to meet his dark brown eyes. "You promise?"

I smiled at him and it felt natural — not forced. Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him softly. "I promise."

His hand moved to my jaw, cradling it as he kissed me again. "Good. Can I take you out for the rest of the day? I was thinking Falmouth — books, an early dinner, and then back to mine…"

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

We'd stuck to Blaise's plan, spending the day walking around in Falmouth, our fingers linked together. Getting out of my house and out of my own head had been exactly what I needed. Not that it surprised me that Blaise knew how to make me feel better; he knew me better than I knew myself at times.

When we walked into the bookstore he'd taken me to on our first date, he gave me free reign, letting me peruse all the titles on the shelves and lounge around while I thumbed through the pages. The shop was decorated the same way it had been right after Christmas for the most part, though some flowers had been added into the garlands that lined the doors and shelves. It still felt like something out of a fairytale, and I was so happy he'd shown it to me.

As we were walking towards Sara's restaurant, Harry called Blaise, making sure that he'd found me and I was alright. From what I heard, Blaise's responses sounded clipped and tense, and I could tell he was still upset with Harry.

After dinner, Blaise turned to face me and said, "Are you feeling any better?"

I nodded, swinging our hands between our bodies. "I am. This has been perfect, Blaise. It was exactly what I needed."

"Good," he replied. "And now? Are you ready to go home?"

At the word home, I froze. Did he not want me to go back to his place with him anymore? Was he upset with me for not going to him straight away when I was upset? Could he sense that I was already a bit confused about Draco?

"To mine, Hermione. I didn't mean I wanted you to go back to your house," he clarified, stopping beside me on the pavement.

"Okay. Yes, that's what I want. I want to stay with you," I replied.

Smirking, he wrapped me in his arms and Apparated me away, not even bothering to look around us.

We landed in his flat — at home — and I immediately lost control, kissing him hard and with as much heat as I could muster. Groaning against my lips, Blaise moved his hands from my waist down to my arse, lifting me and carrying me into his bedroom. While he walked, my hands moved to my blouse, quickly undoing the buttons so I could strip it off. I felt him growing hard inside his trousers, just as desperate for me as I was for him in that moment.

Setting me down on the bed, his hands moved to his belt buckle while, but his lips stayed on mine, kissing me hungrily. I felt him shifting, kicking his shoes off as he unbuttoned his trousers, and I did the same. My heels clattered against the hardwood floor and I started groping around, looking for the zipper on my skirt. When Blaise heard the teeth parting, he broke away.

"No time," he said, hiking it up around my hips and then tugging at the waistband of my knickers. I lifted my hips and allowed him to pull them down.

When I looked down, I saw his erection straining towards me. He pulled me to the edge of the bed — already at the right height for our bodies to align — and his fingers tested me, making sure I was wet.

"You're so ready," he groaned, sliding in and out a few times before replacing his fingers with his cock.

When I felt him stretch me, I cried out and wrapped my legs around his hips. His hands fell on my thighs, pushing and pulling me at the pace he wanted.

"I want your shirt off," I said. "I want to see you."

Blaise closed his eyes in concentration, and the rest of our clothing vanished, save the skirt hiked up around my waist. I nearly laughed.

"It looks fucking hot," he commented. "I'm imagining doing this to you somewhere really naughty."

Leaning forward, I kissed his chest, sucking over his collarbones, inhaling the scent of his heated skin. I filled all of my senses with Blaise, focusing all of my energy on him as I rocked my hips, angling myself just so.

"Lean back on your elbows," he commanded, and I immediately fell back, watching him lose himself in my body.

Grabbing my thighs, he pulled my legs straight up, leaning them against his torso. My feet were in the air to the right of his head, and his cock hit my g-spot hard.

"Oh gods," I moaned, and I felt him thrust again, hitting the same spot.

He looked down at me. "Right there, babe?"

"Right there," I confirmed, my head tipping back as pleasure coursed through my body.

Blaise kept moving, speeding up as the volume of my screams increased. Over the past weeks he'd learned everything about my body, finding the best ways to make me come. He knew when I was close and what he needed to do to get me to tip over the edge.

As if on cue, his fingers moved to my clit, circling and stroking over it, giving my body exactly what it needed. My pussy clenched around him rhythmically, and he grunted, "Oh, fuck. Yes, that's exactly what I wanted. Keep going, Hermione."

And I did.

I continued shifting as much as I could, listening to the sound of his skin slapping against mine as he chased his own release. His fingers were still giving my clit attention every so often, keeping me keyed up and fluttering around him. Once he got me going, he liked to keep my body on a cycle of gentle and hard climaxes, never really letting me come down.

Where he'd learned his tricks, I had no idea, but I'd never felt so lucky.

As I tightened around him again, I swore I could feel him swelling inside of me. When his breaths turned to pants, I knew he was on the verge of coming, too.

"Blaise!" I cried. "Blaise, I'm going to—"

"I know," he replied. "I know. I'm right there with you."

And when I came again, I pulled him over the edge with me, my orgasm sucking him in deep as he filled me. I felt him shaking and sat up, letting him lean on me as he recovered. Though I was feeling just as boneless, I had the bed supporting me. I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, knowing he likely needed the reassurance today.

His tongue tasted the sweat on my neck and he hummed with pleasure. "You taste so good."

Letting out a chuckle, I said, "I'm sure there are other parts of me that taste better."

He pulled back and raised an eyebrow at me. "Really? I just made you come hard at least twice, and now you want me to—"

I kissed him, halting his words when I worked my tongue into his mouth, swiping it against his. His hands moved to my hair, tangling in it and holding me in place until he was ready to break the kiss.

"You're perfect," he murmured. "Everything I could ever want."

My heart swelled.

"I love you, Hermione," he added. "And I know this is going to get messy, and you're probably going to freak out and try to push me away, but I love you. I'm not going anywhere."

He hadn't said the words before now, and I was speechless. I knew I should say them back. I knew I felt love for him, so they would be true.

But I couldn't make them come out of my mouth.

Instead, I kissed him again and said, "I'm going to try to _not_ push you away, Blaise."

"That's good enough for now," he replied.

However, with all the things I was pushing down rather than discussing, I knew I was already putting space between us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the part of the story where we're going to have Dramione interaction in just about every chapter! Finally, I know. Thank you for sticking with me - I know it feels so long when posting one chapter a week.
> 
> Next week, we're back with Draco... and it's a bit of a hot mess. We're at a ball, so you know everyone will be there. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving your thoughts. I appreciate every single one, no matter the platform.


	19. Draco - May 2007

Looking in the mirror, I felt myself growing agitated. I fussed with the bowtie I was wearing under my dress robes — a hideous shade of purple to match Astoria's ensemble — and I felt dread roiling in my stomach. It had been nineteen months since I'd been to an event like this, and I apparently still hated them.

It certainly wasn't how I wanted to spend my last weekend before I returned to work, but Astoria had been adamant that we were going. Together. That everyone would see us together and know we were fine. We weren't hiding anything. While her words struck me as odd, I figured my father was behind it. She sounded exactly like he had when I was younger.

When she walked into our bedroom, she smiled at me and I returned the gesture. She looked absolutely lovely, and the diamond earrings I'd bought for her were on full display. It was clear by the necklace and bracelet she had on that she'd also raided my mother's jewelry box for some more trinkets to wear.

"You look beautiful," I said, complimenting her before leaning in to kiss her.

She pulled away quickly. "No distracting me! We need to leave soon if we want to make a good entrance."

_Well, that's the last fucking thing that I want, but if I must…_

She ran her wand over every inch of her dress, smoothing out lines and wrinkles. While she continued primping, I moved to the nursery where Scorpius was already fast asleep with one of the Manor elves watching over him. Running my hand over his white-blond hair, I said, "Sleep well, buddy. Mummy and Daddy will be home before you even wake up. I promise."

* * *

As Astoria and I entered the ballroom, all eyes were on us. I knew my re-entrance into proper wizarding society would be a topic of interest, but I wasn't prepared for the camera flashes and reporters at the door. Astoria, however, seemed to be in her element, answering questions and smiling. I plastered on a smile, watching her charm everyone. She spoke of my accident and recovery and of being first time parents, like she had to explain away our absence for the past year and a half.

It made me feel a little sick. These people weren't entitled to anything. We didn't owe them information about our personal lives.

I took her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, and started pulling her inside. After a quick look at me, she waved to the press, saying we had to get on with our evening. The vultures also photographed our retreating forms, tempting me to make a rude hand gesture at the camera.

Entering the ballroom was a bit more peaceful, surprisingly enough. While it was still crowded, the people inside had actually been invited and didn't fawn over us. Astoria dropped my hand so she could greet and hug acquaintances, playing the part of the pureblood society wife perfectly.

Although, I supposed she wasn't acting; she _was_ a society wife, born and bred for this life.

As I scanned the room, my eyes landed on Potter and a very pregnant Pansy. I almost laughed to myself; I'd never imagined my childhood friend as a mummy of three. Her hands were resting on her baby bump, and I knew she was likely ready to burst.

"Shall we say hello to the Potters?" I asked.

Astoria smiled and nodded, though I noticed her looking around nervously. Her hands were clasped together in front of her body and she was wringing them together. Grabbing her forearm, I slid my hand down towards her wrist, surprising her. When my hand found its way to hers, I threaded my fingers through hers again and she squeezed my hand gently.

"What are you nervous about?"

Again, her eyes scanned the room. "Nothing. There are just a lot of people here and we've not been to an event like this in a long time."

I accepted her response as truth and continued leading her towards the Potters. When we reached them, Pansy looked Astoria over and ignored her.

"Draco! It's wonderful to see you again," she greeted, kissing me on both cheeks.

Potter, always the one to smooth things over when Pansy made them awkward, clasped Astoria's hand and brought it to his lips. "Mrs. Malfoy, lovely to see you two out and about again."

"Well, I told Draco that he's certainly well enough for a social event if he's ready to be an Auror again," she laughed, but I still heard some bitterness in her tone.

Both Potter and Pansy noticed it, as well. "Well, rest assured, things are a lot different than they were a couple of years ago. Not nearly as much travel. I'll even be taking a bit of time off when baby number three arrives," he responded.

Pansy took the opportunity to once again rub her abdomen. "Yes, I'll definitely need help when our littlest one arrives. Merlin, three children in the house! I'm starting to feel like Molly Weasley!" With a wink, she added, "And who knows? Maybe I'll just keep going! Harry can't seem to keep his hands off me."

Astoria smiled tightly and I could tell she knew Pansy was intentionally being a bitch. Digging through my inadequate memories, I tried to remember if Pansy treated Stori like this at Hogwarts, but I came up with nothing. I wasn't sure why she was such a shrew to my wife, but I didn't know how to stop it.

When I looked to Pansy again, I saw her eyes gleam with something akin to mischief.

"Ahhh, Harry, look! Blaise and Hermione are here. We should go say hello," she began. "It was wonderful to see you again, Draco. I do hope you and Astoria have a lovely night."

And just like that, Potter and Pansy started moving and my stomach twisted. I didn't have the courage to look up and see Blaise and Granger. As curious as I was, I couldn't piss Astoria off, and I needed to mentally prepare myself if we were going to speak to them.

Luckily, salvation arrived in the form of my parents; I saw them standing on the opposite side of the room. Taking Astoria's hand once more, I said, "Let's go and greet Mother and Father. I can catch up with Blaise later on."

When she met my eyes, she looked pleased, and I figured I had made the right decision.

Somehow, I still felt like it was wrong.

* * *

All through cocktail hour I stayed focused on my family, speaking only to those who came up to us. At dinner, we were seated with Astoria's family and several other purebloods. It seemed that segregation was still quite prominent in this world, but we were on the other side of it now. Our name was still important enough to make the cut, but we'd never be front and center again.

When the meal was over, the Minister for Magic gave a speech about unity and heroism and acceptance. It was the same rubbish they'd all been spouting for ten bloody years. However, at the end of the speech, he asked Potter, Weasley, and Granger to open the dancing portion of the evening.

Potter and Weasley led Pansy and Lovegood to the dance floor, and after a moment, I saw Blaise stand. It was obvious that Granger wanted no part of this, but he coaxed her up, laughing and smiling. While I hadn't yet laid eyes on her, I noticed that Blaise looked happier than I'd ever seen him. Even if she was being stubborn about dancing, he was excited to be there with her and I couldn't blame him.

I looked to Astoria and saw her watching the scene unfold. My parents were also smiling, though my father's amusement appeared to be directed at Granger, and that didn't seem right at all. With all eyes on the Golden Trio I had no choice but to look, and what I saw nearly took my breath away.

Granger's dress was black. At first glance, it wasn't sexy at all, though it was quite fitted to her torso. Her whole chest was covered and there was only a small keyhole cutout in the back. But when the light hit it just right, it was obvious that the gown was made of sheer material, swaths of her skin visible if you looked properly. There were patches of lace and opaque fabric protecting her modesty. The sheer fabric shimmered, drawing my eyes to her, making me notice that her lips were painted bright red.

She was smiling at Blaise, her white teeth looking even brighter when framed by lipstick, and her dark hair was swept over one shoulder. Her curls cascaded down her front, almost reaching her waist, and I tried to remember if I'd ever seen them so long.

My brain, frustratingly, drew a blank. I recognised her, of course — I'd only just seen her in Diagon Alley last weekend — but she was still glaringly absent from the last few years. When Blaise pulled her close, my jaw clenched, even though it really had no reason to. I wanted them both to be happy, and if they were in love, then that was all that mattered. My silly infatuation with her — the one that had started at Hogwarts — was of no consequence. I had no right to be jealous of Blaise for stealing Granger away.

She'd never been mine to lose in the first place.

As they danced, her focus stayed primarily on Blaise; they were chatting and laughing, and I found myself longing to know what they were saying. He led her closer to Potter and Pansy, and they all shared a private joke.

Astoria's hand landed on my thigh, squeezing it gently. I turned to her and she said, "You're staring. It's weird."

Chastened, I moved my chair closer to hers and held her hand. "I was just watching the dance. I can't wait to get you out there."

When I looked to my father, he was still scrutinizing them, as well. My mother, however, was observing me closely. I made a mental note to ask her why later on. Lifting my wine goblet, I took a healthy gulp and resisted the urge to turn and watch Granger and Blaise again. The song they were dancing to seemed to drag on for ages.

Finally, applause rang out and they all moved from the dance floor, fleeing like it was on fire. I rose and held out my hand to Astoria, asking her to dance. When we were safely ensconced in the crowd, my eyes scanned the room again. There was no sign of Pansy or Granger.

We waltzed and twirled for a few songs before my father cut in, sweeping Astoria around. As I headed for the bar, I nearly knocked into Blaise.

"Hey, Zabini," I greeted.

Nodding at me, he replied, "Malfoy. Good to see you out and about."

"Well, Astoria wouldn't let me get away with going back to work unless I also started showing up to gatherings like this again."

He smirked. "Ah, of course. Can't keep a pureblood princess from her ball."

"Or a Golden Girl," I quipped.

"Oh, you know Hermione," he began. "She'd prefer not to be here, but Kingsley begs her every year, and she relents."

_But I don't know her. Not as well as you do…_

"Speaking of which, I'm off to get a drink for my lovely date," Blaise added.

I gestured for him to lead the way, but when I fell into step beside him, he stiffened. "I'm also headed to the bar." To fill the silence, I asked, "What kind of reception should I expect on Monday?"

"Potter hasn't really told many people that you're coming back. I'm assuming he'll give you some time to get readjusted to the department before doing anything formal," he answered. "He told me, Hermione, and a few others."

"Good. I don't want to make a big deal of it. I just want to start filling my days again."

As we stood in line, we chatted, catching up. Astoria joined me when the song was over and I wrapped an arm around her waist. I saw Blaise's eyes focusing on something over my shoulder, his smile growing as he crooked his finger. Before I had a chance to prepare, Granger was in front of me and Blaise was kissing her temple.

"Malfoy," she said quietly. "Astoria, it's nice to see you again. Are you enjoying your evening?"

Astoria nodded. "Yes, it's been wonderful so far. It's so nice to get out again." After an awkward pause, she added, "I'm surprised to see you here with Blaise."

"We've been seeing each other for about five months. I'm sure you've read _Witch Weekly_ and have seen us together," Granger responded, some of her fire showing.

With a laugh, I tried to break the tension. "Of course she reads _Witch Weekly_ , but we all know half of what's printed by journalists isn't true."

Blaise pulled Granger closer when the line advanced, both his arms wrapping around her waist. "Well, in this case, it's all true. Very, very true. Isn't that right, Tesoro?"

Flushing, she nodded. "It is." Her fingers linked with Blaise's top hand. "How is your son?"

A genuine smile crossed my face. "Oh, he's wonderful. I'll definitely miss spending the day with him when I'm back at work, but Stori will be home with him."

"That's great, Astoria," Blaise said. "Is Daphne here tonight?"

"She is. I haven't seen her or Michael since the dancing began, but I'm sure they'll appear," she replied, her hand settling on my chest.

The line moved again and I watched Blaise hold onto Granger. When they stepped in unison, she laughed and the sound was beautiful.

"So, Granger, I hear you like to give out Muggle literature to purebloods. Can you recommend any new books to me?" I asked playfully. "It seems I've read everything I have."

Her eyes widened, but a mask quickly slid over her features. "I'm sure I can bring you something on Monday. Stop by my office."

The easy acceptance, the lack of snark — it was all unexpected, and I wondered if this was how it had been. Again, that line of thought led nowhere; I couldn't remember much more than a casual greeting or quick conversation since the end of the war.

Smiling at her, I said, "Great. Thank you."

When she smiled back, warmth spread from my head to my toes. And then Blaise leaned in, kissing the side of her neck and making her eyelids flutter closed in pleasure. "So sweet, Tesoro," he murmured. "Loaning books to Malfoy."

I looked to Astoria and her cheeks were pink. The queue moved again and we'd nearly reached the front. Thank Merlin, because things felt a bit strange after Blaise's very public display of affection. He had Granger giggling.

"So, Blaise," Astoria said, interrupting their little interlude. "How is your mother?"

He loosened his hold on Hermione and met Astoria's gaze. "She's doing well. Interviewing new husbands already. One died just a few weeks ago. It's all very tragic."

Granger snorted a laugh and rolled her eyes. "Thank the gods she doesn't kill them in Britain. You'd have to arrest her."

"Ah, I wouldn't be able to do that. Conflict of interest," Blaise replied.

Their interactions were so easy, and I tried to remember if I'd ever talked to Astoria this way. Nothing between Granger and Blaise looked forced and I realised they were truly happy together.

And that was what I had been telling myself I wanted for them.

While I was lost in my thoughts, Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood floated over, jumping into the conversation. "Sweet Circe, Mrs. Malfoy, your aura is positively green! It's a lovely spring colour on you!" When she turned to me, she said, "Interesting! You're green with a tinge of red around your heart and groin! Are you feeling particularly aroused right now?"

Blaise, Weasley, and Granger started laughing hard while I stood there, mouth gaping. Astoria was even more flushed and I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.

"N-No! Of course not!" I spluttered.

Lovegood shrugged. "Well then, it's a lovely mix of Slytherin and Gryffindor! Maybe your inner lion will come out again now that you're going back to work!"

Weasley snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure that's it, love. Malfoy has always been so brave."

Deciding to be the bigger man, I ignored Weasley's comment. I knew he was just trying to get a rise out of me, and I wasn't going to let him. For a moment, I wondered how she knew about my return to the Aurors. Either Potter had a big mouth or she was a clairvoyant nutter.

Luckily, Blaise and Granger had reached the bar. After they got their drinks, they started to move away, but were stopped by Potter and Pansy and my parents. When Astoria and I had also finished at the bar, we had no choice but to join the group. I listened to the idle chatter as my parents asked Pansy and Potter about their impending third baby. Astoria tried to interact with Pansy again, talking about Scorpius and asking about Severus since they were born on the same day, but she was rebuffed.

Granger was standing in front of Blaise again and he had an arm around her waist, holding her close. She was sipping champagne and interjecting whenever she could. I saw Blaise's thumb stroking against her in a comforting manner, the motion drawing my eyes back to the sheer fabric of the dress that revealed glimpses of her skin.

The skin I had wanted to see, to touch, since I was a teenager. It was right in front of me, pleading for me to look even though it would just make me even more jealous of Blaise.

"—right, Draco?" my mother asked.

"I'm sorry. I was somewhere else for a moment, Mother. What did you say?"

Narrowing her eyes at me, she replied, "I was talking about Scorpius walking and getting into everything. I said it's both a blessing and a curse, right, Draco?"

"Yes. He's quite mischievous for being under the age of two," I responded.

Pansy smiled at me. "I remember when we started going through that with James. It's definitely a learning experience."

Granger's laugh rang out and she clapped a hand to her mouth. Blaise's lips were by her ear again, and I wondered what he was whispering to her. Her eyes met mine and she immediately looked away.

"Well, if you'll all excuse us, Hermione and I are going to dance," Blaise announced. "We don't have much to contribute to a chat about babies."

My father nodded. "I don't suppose you would. Do enjoy yourselves."

As they walked away hand-in-hand, Granger leaned into Blaise's shoulder and he kissed her forehead. I forced myself to look away and refocus on the conversation around me.

I had to forget about her.

* * *

The Potters and Weasleys departed shortly after Granger and Blaise, leaving me with my parents and Astoria. I looked to my wife and said, "Did you want to dance again?"

Nodding, she took my hand and led us into the crowd.

"Well, that wasn't awkward at all," Astoria said, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I'd forgotten how small the wizarding world actually is."

Puzzled, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Making small talk with your parents and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley," she replied. "It's one thing to talk about the Auror office, but it was just a long, awkward encounter."

I made a non-committal sound and led her through the dance, not really knowing what to say. I hadn't found the conversation awkward, merely a bit boring. But then again, I had barely listened. I'd been watching Blaise and Granger as discreetly as possible.

About halfway through the song, I looked up and saw Granger gazing at us while continuing to sway in place with Blaise. Unlike before, she looked sad, like she was barely holding it together. She was clinging tightly to Blaise and I wondered if he was the only thing keeping her afloat in this room full of people.

As soon as she noticed I was staring back at her, she quickly turned away and tucked her face against Blaise's chest. It was clear she'd been wearing a mask earlier, playing the happy, carefree version of herself that somehow seemed so off to me. Maybe it was because I'd imagined her as the serious type and assumed she'd be married and settled down long before most.

Or maybe she'd just been drunk.

I had a feeling I'd just seen the real Hermione Granger, the one who had hidden herself away. The pain written across her face had been clear, and I wondered how many people knew she was hurting.

Did Blaise? Did Potter? Did Weasley?

Who did she trust to help with her pain?

I quickly snapped back to reality when Astoria's lips made their way up my neck to my ear, and she said, "I think I'm ready to go home now, Draco."

"Yeah?" I asked, pulling her closer. "Are you sure?"

She looked up at me, her eyes a bit glassy and her cheeks flushed. For the first time all night, she leaned in and kissed me properly in front of everyone. When she pulled back, she swiped her thumb across my lips and quietly replied, "I'm sure. I need you."

"As soon as this song ends, we'll go," I told her, tucking her back against my chest.

When I looked over to the spot where Granger and Blaise had been, they were walking away, weaving through the witches and wizards that were still dancing. Disappointment filled me; I'd wanted to get one more look at her to make sure she was okay. I knew that Blaise was a good person and would take care of her, but I wasn't sure how open she was with him.

Did she let him see through to her sadness? Or did she hide it from him?

I had so many questions running through my head.

Once the music stopped, Astoria kissed me again and coaxed me forward, making her way towards the room containing the Floos. It struck me as strange that she didn't insist we say goodbye to everyone but I let it go, choosing to believe that she really was anxious to get home and into bed. Her kisses had been more heated than they usually were.

As soon as we stepped into the Floo, our backs to everyone, she put her hand on my groin and I nearly jumped in surprise. I quickly tossed the powder down into the grate, igniting it, and shouted out our address. I heard her laugh to herself as we were whisked away to our living room.

"What's gotten into you?" I asked, but she didn't answer.

Instead of speaking, she kissed me hard and started fumbling with my robes. I began to wonder if she was drunk or if someone had slipped her a potion.

She wasn't acting like my prim and proper wife.

Grabbing her hands, I broke the kiss and held her still. "Astoria, are you okay? This isn't like you."

"I told you. I need you," she stated, her hand moving to the front of my trousers once more. "Champagne and a night out dancing… We haven't spent time together properly in too long."

She was right — since I'd announced my return to work, she'd been distant with me. The only exception was the previous weekend; when we'd arrived at the Manor, she'd handed Scorpius off to my mother and made a feeble excuse about needing something from my former bedroom, even though we all knew it had been cleaned out before dragging me up the stairs.

Leaning forward, I looked down into her eyes. I expected her to look ready to devour me. Instead, she looked almost nervous, and I worried that my questions had felt like a rejection to her.

"I'm right here," I said, my voice low.

Before she closed her eyes, I thought about the way I associated blue with cold, with ice. And, even though it was wrong, I thought of warm browns, of golden flecks in the firelight.

I thought of the woman who would be spending the night in Blaise's bed, rather than the one right in front of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! And thank you to coyg81 and BreathOfThePhoenix for giving this another look when I realised I'd never truly finished the chapter! lol
> 
> We'll see Hermione next week for Draco's first day back at work.


	20. Hermione - May 2007

When I woke up the morning after the ball, my head was pounding. I felt like I had been hit with several stunners before taking an international Portkey and landing flat on my face. Groaning, I rolled over into a puddle of my own drool. I was afraid to even open my eyes, and I prayed that Blaise was situated on the opposite side of the bed, none the wiser to my struggle.

But then I felt a hand on the side of my face that wasn't currently against the wet pillowcase and lips press to my forehead.

"Morning, Tesoro. I'm going to get you a hangover potion and some water. Hold on," he said.

I just grumbled in return, and I swore I heard him laugh to himself. I slowly opened my eyes and sat up, wiping at my face. I had obviously had far too much to drink — all of it wine and champagne — and I was convinced that I might actually die from this hangover.

A few minutes later he was back, handing me the uncorked potion first and then water to chase it with. I squeezed my eyes shut while it traveled down to my stomach and made its way into my bloodstream. I sipped the water slowly and finally sighed when the potion hit my brain.

"I love magic," I admitted. "It would've taken Muggle medicine at least an hour to help with this."

Blaise chuckled again.

Cracking one eye open, I looked straight at him. "Why are you not hung over? You drank just as much as I did!"

He sat beside me on the bed and pulled me into his arms. "I really didn't, Hermione. I was sober most of the night, wanting to make sure I was ready if you needed me. I didn't think you'd just get pissed to deal with seeing him."

Embarrassment washed over me; I hadn't intended to get drunk to deal with seeing Draco. I really hadn't. It just sort of… happened. Seeing him leading Astoria around the room was more painful than I had thought it would be. I'd known they were attending — Blaise had asked Lucius — and I'd thought I was prepared for this second run-in.

I wasn't.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how I'd even deal with being in the same Ministry department with him on a daily basis, and he'd be back to work when I arrived on Monday. I was absolutely terrified that every bit of progress I'd made over the past few months would be shattered by his very presence, and I didn't know how to tell Blaise I was feeling that way.

"I didn't mean to," I answered him finally. "I just… got carried away, I think. He kept looking at me—"

"I'm aware," he interrupted.

"—and I didn't think he would. Honestly, he shouldn't remember anything."

Blaise squeezed me tighter. "He doesn't. You knew he wanted you long before the night of his stag party. He just never acted on it."

"But at Christmas, Lucius told us that he and Astoria were happy. If he's happy with her, why…?" I trailed off.

"Because you're you, Tesoro. And it's probably hard for him to see you with me," he answered. "You might not get it since you're not a bloke, but when it comes to females between friends, there are some ground rules. I've basically pissed all over them."

"He's married—"

"I know that, and he knows that, but he still cares about you, and I'm with you now, Hermione. He probably didn't think I'd go anywhere near you."

_Fucking men. Why do they have to be so bloody confusing?_

As I contemplated Blaise's words, I stayed silent. I really didn't know what to say to him. If Draco was feeling betrayed now, I couldn't even imagine what he'd feel if he knew the whole story. My guilt started to spiral inside of me, and I had to take a few deep breaths to regain my centre.

Once I had, I said, "He's married and has a son. That's why I did what I did to begin with. He didn't love me enough to leave Astoria and commit to me after things started up between us, and he kept sleeping with her."

Kissing the top of my head, Blaise replied, "You're absolutely right."

"And he didn't even consider that he shouldn't have been having unsafe sex with two women," I added. "If either of us had some sort of infection, he would've given it to the other. That's just… disgusting."

My words were coming out in a rush, my anxiety overflowing.

"Thank Merlin I was on the potion. I could've ended up pregnant, too! And that would've been an even bigger disaster. Can you even imagine Lucius' reaction if I'd gotten pregnant?"

"Tesoro, calm down," he said. "You're fine. None of those things happened. There is no need to worry about them now."

"But I'm angry! I know it was so long ago, but I'm just remembering what I felt when he first told me that Astoria was pregnant, and it won't stop—"

I felt his hand cup my jaw, and he turned my face towards him. Meeting my eyes, he said, "You had every right to be angry with him then, Hermione. Hell, I'd argue that you should still be angry about the way he treated you, but it's not going to do anything to change the situation." He moved in closer, giving me a gentle kiss before resting his forehead against mine. "And, on top of that, I don't want your brain fixated on him. You're going to be seeing him every day, and I know that's going to be an adjustment, but I thought you were here with me now."

"I am!" I replied quickly. "I'm just going to need a little time, I think."

I kissed him this time, but when he tried to deepen it, I pulled back. "Not yet. My mouth is not a happy place to be at the moment."

Laughing, he said, "Your mouth is _always_ a happy place to be."

I grabbed a pillow and hit him with it. "Can you help me get to the shower? And then will you feed me something? Please?"

Blaise stood up and wrapped his arms around me so he could lift me up. "Absolutely, Tesoro. I'll definitely take a shower with you."

"I didn't—"

"It's the price of the ride, love," he teased, making me smile.

* * *

After the shower, Blaise suggested we spend the day at home. I was perfectly fine with that plan since I needed time to mentally prepare for Monday.

We ate breakfast and then spent the morning reading. Of course, Draco and Astoria were featured in the Sunday edition of the _Prophet_. Their photo took up a quarter of the page, showing them smiling for the cameras as they walked into the gala. From the look on Draco's face, I could tell he was uncomfortable.

And they weren't touching.

He was letting Astoria talk to the reporters, but he didn't want to. It was clear that she still didn't know him at all; since the war, he hated the fame — or infamy — that came with his name.

We had that in common.

Even though it was irrational, my anger reignited as I flipped through the pages of the paper. When I got to the continuation, there was a photo of Blaise holding me close, my back to his front, his arms around my waist, and Draco and Astoria stood closeby. Blaise kissed my neck, making my eyelids flutter closed and Draco's eyes lock on us. Astoria's too.

Gods, they were both watching me closely.

"When was this?" I asked.

Blaise smirked. "We were in the queue for drinks and then we chatted with Harry and Pansy, the elder Malfoys, and Ron and Luna."

I really had been pissed. I barely remembered any of the night.

Moving closer to me, he took the paper from my hands and folded it up, setting it down on the coffee table. He curled a hand around the side of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss, his lips working their way down to the same spot on my throat and sending the same jolt of pleasure through me.

The heat of my anger travelled down into my belly, morphing into something sweeter. Blaise knew how to settle and calm me, how to distract me when I was starting to spiral and needed it.

Slowly, I started to sink down onto the sofa, pulling him with me and cradling him between my thighs, bringing his lips to mine again. When I rocked against him, he reciprocated, giving me the friction I was nonverbally begging for. He grabbed my leg and hitched it higher along his ribs, opening me wider, before sliding his hand down to grab my arse.

With each steady grind of his length against my centre, my brain fogged more and more, only able to focus on him. I didn't want to pause, didn't want him to stop even though we were simply on the couch rutting against each other like teenagers. When I moaned, his lips moved back to my neck and his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers lightly pinching my nipple.

Bit by bit, he built the intensity, moving faster, pinching harder, his lips moving up towards my ear. When I felt his hot breath against the shell of it, I whimpered and he whispered, "Let go, Tesoro. Come for me. You're right there."

Shivering at his murmured words, my hands moved to his arse, pulling him even closer. He thrusted more powerfully, and I was lost.

"Fuck," I cried, arching into him as waves of pleasure crashed over me. "Blaise!"

"Mmmm," he hummed against my skin. "Shall I continue? Or are you spent?"

I glanced down at him. His dark eyes were hungry, looking like they wanted to devour me. My breaths were already shallow, my heart still pounding from the orgasm I'd just had.

"When have I ever been spent after one?" I asked, teasing him.

Blaise laughed and kissed my lips. "Mind if we move this to the bed? I need space for what I want to do to you."

He didn't wait for a response; he stood and lifted me from the couch, making me smile.

"Well, who am I to say no to an offer like that?"

And I knew how we'd be spending our afternoon — naked, in his bed, fooling around and then dozing off. He would make it his mission to keep my mind off Draco, and I knew he would mostly succeed.

Mostly.

* * *

On Monday morning, I got ready for work, carefully pulling my hair back from my face and pinning it in place. When I brushed mascara over my lashes, I thought about the way Draco used to watch me do it, like it was something extraordinary.

_"Your lips always part when you do that," he commented, leaning against the doorframe. "It's adorable, Granger. It's not something I ever would've imagined you doing."_

_After putting my mascara wand back in the tube, I turned to face him. "Get out. I need to get ready without commentary."_

_Smirking, he stepped closer to me, eventually wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. "But you're so sexy when you think no one's looking. I don't know why, but I love watching you get ready for the day. And, if I catch you in time, I can do this."_

_He kissed me hard, his hands slipping down to my arse and squeezing. I moaned into his mouth and he greedily swallowed the sound._

_When we broke apart, he said, "I wouldn't have been able to kiss you like that if you'd already put on that Muggle lipstick you like so much."_

_My breaths were unsteady, my heart racing as I looked up into his silver eyes and fell under his spell._

Coming out of the memory, I resumed my routine and sprayed the perfume I'd always worn on my neck and wrists, rubbing it in and trying to forget how much he'd loved it. When I slipped into my dress, Blaise stepped behind me and zipped it up slowly, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck when it was fully closed. "You look gorgeous as always, Hermione."

"Thank you," I replied, trying to shift my focus to him — to the man I was with now, rather than the one in my past.

"How do you want to approach this today?"

"Honestly? I'm not even sure," I said.

Since the night Blaise had returned from the Dolohov mission in March, we'd been more relaxed in the office, not really hiding our relationship. We arrived together and left together whenever we could. He often looped his arm around my waist or put a hand on the small of my back.

It had been nice exchanging the innocent touches, but after the way Draco's eyes had zeroed in on his hands at the ball, I was feeling wary. I didn't want him watching me — watching us. However, I didn't want to upset Blaise, either.

"Do you want to just act like it's a normal day?" he asked.

Thinking that was probably the best option, I nodded. "Yeah, let's do that. I mean, he's just coming back to work. He doesn't know anything. I've ripped the plaster off and seen him now. Everything should be relatively fine."

By the look on his face, I could tell Blaise didn't fully believe me, but I wasn't going to try to convince him when I hadn't managed to fully convince myself. Grabbing my hand, Blaise led me into the kitchen where my coffee and some toast were already waiting for me. He watched me as I ate, ensuring that I wasn't going to start skipping meals again.

"Really, Blaise, I'm fine," I said. "I'm eating. I'm having my coffee. I'm going to work. Yes, I got drunk at the ball and had a hangover, but I'm okay today. You don't need to watch over me."

He shook his head. "You still don't get it. I'm always going to watch over you and look after you, Hermione. That's normal. It's what a boyfriend is supposed to do." Pausing for a second, he moved his chair closer to mine and rested a hand on my thigh. "I know your habits when you're stressed, and I know that being around Draco again is going to affect you more than you're willing to admit."

"I won't lie to you—"

"Not directly, no, but you'll try to hide your emotions from me. You're not going to want to worry me, but I'll tell you a secret," he began. "I'm always going to worry. I'm always going to put your well-being before mine, Tesoro."

His words shocked me into silence; I could only smile at him in response. Sometimes, he overwhelmed me with his sweetness.

After we'd finished eating, Blaise went back into the bedroom to grab his Auror robes and I stood in front of the Floo wringing my hands for a solid minute. I was internally freaking out about this day and I didn't know how to stop.

When I heard Blaise approaching, I unclasped my hands and smiled at him. "Are you ready to head in?"

He nodded and placed his hand on the small of my back. "I'll be behind you in just a minute. Don't forget your bag."

I summoned it and slung it over my shoulder before grabbing a handful of Floo powder. Gathering my courage, I stepped into green flames.

As I landed in the Ministry's atrium, I took a deep breath and strode towards the lift like it was any other workday. There was nothing different or special about today. I was just going to work and that was that. Finding the lift with the shortest queue, I got in line. An arm looped around my waist and I turned around to see Blaise.

"I thought you would take longer. I would've waited by the Floo."

Wearing a serious expression, he shook his head. "Like I'd let you walk into the department alone today."

"I wouldn't have survived this without you. You know that, right?" I asked.

"You would have. Potter would've stepped in more if I hadn't been there and you're strong on your own," he replied. "But thanks for saying it, Hermione."

As we stepped into the lift, he held me tightly against his side. I leaned into him, accepting the extra support that I so desperately needed today. I wasn't sure what time Draco would be coming into the office, but I needed to be steady if he was already there. When the doors opened to reveal the DMLE, Blaise guided me forward.

Harry's office door was ajar, and I could see Draco sitting in the chair in front of the desk. Blaise noticed him, as well.

"Do you want to get the greetings over with now?" he asked.

I nodded and we headed towards the office together. Since the door was open, Harry noticed our approach, his eyes lingering on Blaise's possessive hold on my waist. I knew I'd be interrogated later; that look said it all — _do you really think it's a good idea to flaunt your relationship like this_?

Out of courtesy to Draco, I knocked and said, "Good morning. Welcome back, Malfoy."

He turned and eyed me, his gaze moving up and down my body, taking in my hair, dress, and heels. His eyes landed on Blaise's hand, as well. He rose and held out his right hand, forcing Blaise to release me to shake.

"Zabini," he greeted.

"Malfoy," Blaise replied. "It's good to see you back, mate."

Draco's eyes lingered on Zabini's hand, which had reclaimed its spot on my waist. His eyes traveled up and he finally greeted me. "Granger. You look nice."

"Thank you. I hope your first few days back won't be too stressful," I answered, keeping my voice steady and professional.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"Malfoy, let's finish up all this paperwork and that kind of thing. You can catch up with Zabini later on. Hermione, there is a strange set of runes found at a crime scene on your desk. See if you can make any sense of them," Harry commanded, dismissing Blaise and me in an effort to regain Draco's attention.

"See you later," I replied, heading for my office.

Blaise had pulled me tighter to his side before I could extricate myself from his hold, guiding me into my space. Once I'd set my bag down on my desk, he spun me and pressed me against the door he'd quietly closed, kissing me with more heat than I was used to and definitely smearing my lipstick.

When he broke away, I was breathless. He stared into my eyes and said, "I want you to think of me, Hermione. All day. Think about that kiss and about coming home with me tonight."

I nodded. "I will. How could I not after that?"

With a smirk, he released me and I moved around to my desk chair. Once I'd sat down, he opened the door to my office. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip, likely removing any lipstick he'd taken off me, and it was sexier than it should've been. The motion made me squirm in my seat.

"I'll see you later, Tesoro."

For a few moments, I thought of him, of what would likely transpire tonight when we got home. My stomach filled with butterflies, the anticipation already beginning.

And then I got down to work, examining the runes that Harry wanted an answer about.

* * *

Luckily, the runes presented me with a challenge and I worked steadily until it was time to go to lunch. I couldn't think about Draco. I didn't want to overanalyse the way he'd looked at Blaise's hand on my waist or complimented me. Knowing I was likely to go into a spin, I focused on the task at hand. The runes were the priority and Malfoy was just coming back to work. He knew he had been an Auror, and he had decided to return to it. End of.

He didn't remember everything that had happened between us in this very office.

And Blaise. I had Blaise. I was going home with him tonight, and Draco was going home to Astoria and Scorpius.

Harry knocked on my door around midday and then stepped in. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to get over here until now. Are you okay?"

"I'm just focusing on the runes. Nothing else really matters right now," I responded.

"What was that with Blaise this morning? You're not usually one to cling to him."

I looked up and fixed him with a pointed glare. "He was supporting me. Do you think it was easy for me to just walk in there and rip the plaster off?"

"I wasn't sure how it would be for you. You seemed okay at the ball over the weekend," Harry answered.

Arching a brow at him, I said, "I got completely pissed and had the hangover from hell yesterday. Blaise had to peel me out of bed and carry me to the shower."

"Oh. I didn't realise. You didn't seem drunk." He paused. "Okay, this is getting awkward. Let's move on. Do you want to go to lunch with me?"

"Just us?" I asked.

Harry grinned. "We could go to Diagon Alley and kidnap Ron. I'm sure George can spare him for a lunch."

At the thought of a lunch with my _boys_ — since it didn't really matter that we were nearing thirty at this point, they would always be my _boys_ — I smiled and nodded. "We haven't had a proper chat with him in a few weeks. I'm sure he's missing us."

"My thoughts exactly," Harry remarked, helping me up and waiting while I slid my shoes back on. I constantly rearranged myself in my desk chair, usually sitting on one leg or the other, so I never wore shoes in my office, a fact that he was well-aware of.

I grabbed my handbag and Harry opened the door for me. When we exited the office and Blaise saw I was smiling, he smiled back. This prompted Draco to turn and look at me, as well. Harry's arm was wrapped around my shoulders and we headed towards the lift. I waved to Blaise, and both he and Draco returned the gesture.

_Awkward._

"His eyes still follow you everywhere, you know. I noticed it this morning," Harry whispered.

"I know. He'll eventually stop. If I don't encourage his advances like last time, nothing will happen," I replied.

The look on Harry's face told me that he wasn't so sure, but I chose to believe my own self-deception.

* * *

When we walked through the door of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Ron smiled and picked me up, hugging me close.

"You guys haven't come for lunch in ages!" he said, his excitement evident in his voice.

I held on to him tightly, enjoying the familiarity of his arms wrapped around me and the feeling of his Weasley jumper against my cheek. Before I knew it, Harry had me sandwiched between them in an odd group hug. After the war, when we had all been scared to lose each other, this had been a familiar greeting. I turned myself so I could wrap one arm around Harry and the other around Ron.

"I've missed this," I said quietly. "We need to go back to having lunch every week or every other week."

Ron looked at me quizzically. "Hermione, not that I don't want to, but we haven't done that in years."

"I know. It's all my fault," I said.

I knew my emotions were getting the best of me — they were all over the place today.

Harry, thankfully, jumped in. "I'm sure you remember that Malfoy was coming back to work today. She's just struggling a little bit."

I could see the blood flooding Ron's cheeks. "Hermione, you know you don't have to stay in the DMLE. I'm sure Kingsley would let you switch departments if you really wanted to. You don't need to see that wanker every damn day."

Smiling at him, I replied, "It's okay. It's just hard because it's the first day. Harry and Blaise are looking after me at work. You don't have to worry about me."

"I am going to worry about you. You carried on with that bouncing ferret for over a year without telling anyone," he said, reminding me that I'd effectively lied to everyone.

Even now, I wanted to defend Draco, to defend my actions. But I didn't. I was moving on, and I didn't have to do that.

"Right. Well, I'm not going to make the same mistakes again," I began. "I've obviously learned a lot over the past three years, and I won't let Draco pull me back in. I promise."

Ron still wasn't convinced. "I don't want him near you, Hermione. His eyes were all over you at the gala. He's still obsessed with you."

_He's not. He doesn't care about me at all. If anything, he's just remembering his childhood crush. It was the first time we'd seen each other more than in passing…_

"Ronald, I work with Draco again now. I'm going to be around him. It's unavoidable since I'm not willing to quit my job," I answered sharply.

Harry laughed, and I knew he wasn't being insensitive — he wanted to move the conversation along before Ron and I really got into a row. If that happened, our whole lunch would be ruined. "There she is. Our bossy Hermione."

I felt Ron press a kiss to the top of my head. "I just don't want to see you hurting anymore. If he tries to start things up again, you need to tell us. He's married with a son. He shouldn't be chasing skirts around the office."

Before things could get tense again, George walked out of the backroom and said, "Bloody hell! The whole Golden Trio! Can I get your autographs?!"

I swatted at him. "Prat! It's good to see you, though."

"Come to kidnap my baby brother for lunch?" George asked.

"Yep," Harry answered. "We've decided it's been far too long since the three of us have been out alone."

George mimed pushing us towards the door and we all linked arms, heading down the street to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Let's try to get through to Muggle London as quickly as possible," Harry whispered. "I don't fancy being stopped by anyone today. I just want to enjoy our lunch."

Once we crossed the barrier, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was lucky that many wizards still avoided crossing into Muggle areas; it made it easier to escape into a more simple life where no one knew who we were. We walked on the pavement, heading towards the small restaurant we ate at nearly every time we had lunch.

After we were settled in a booth, Harry and I on one side and Ron on the other, we started catching up in earnest.

"I didn't want to say anything at the ball," Ron began, "but Luna is pregnant again. She's going to have the baby around Christmas."

"Congratulations, mate," Harry said. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "You know Luna. She doesn't want to find out. She says that biological gender isn't the one that matters, whatever that's supposed to mean. I'm happy as long as she is and the baby's healthy."

The same feelings I'd been dealing with — or _not_ dealing with — for years came rushing back to the surface. Between Harry and Ron, there would be five children by the end of the year.

I wasn't even married.

"That's wonderful, Ron. I'm really happy for you," I said, even though the last thing I was feeling today was happiness.

Harry started talking about the preparations he and Pansy had been making for the new baby's arrival, and I interjected when I felt like I had something to contribute. While my mind was spinning out in a different direction, I decided that I should probably call Penelope and make an appointment to talk. I couldn't talk to Blaise about feeling left behind. He'd likely think I was hinting at marriage, and I certainly was not ready for that right now.

Somehow, I managed to eat my entire lunch while chatting with Ron and Harry. They lured me into conversation, discussing plans for a get together before the newest Potter made their arrival.

"Of course we want you and Blaise to be there, Hermione," Harry said. "Come over around midday on Saturday if you're both free and feeling up to it."

"Why wouldn't we be feeling up to it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I have a feeling it's going to be a long fucking week for you guys."

With a sigh, I replied, "You're probably right. It'll be good to have something to look forward to this weekend."

Ron reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "You're going to be fine, Hermione. You just need to steer clear of Malfoy as much as possible. I'm sure that Blaise will help you with that. He's likely worried."

Of course, I'd been so focused on my own feelings that I hadn't given a single thought to his.

"I know. I need to try to talk to him, but I'm afraid that I'll say all the wrong things and make him think that I'm still pining after Draco," I confessed. "And, just to be clear, I'm not pining after Draco. It's just an adjustment, seeing him again. I hadn't seen him in a year and a half, and since April, I'm now at three times—"

"Three?" Harry asked.

Swallowing hard, I said, "Yes. I ran into him in Diagon Alley before you told me he was coming back to work." They both looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. "He was with Astoria and Scorpius. I tried to avoid him but someone stopped me on the street and then we quite literally ran into each other. We barely exchanged a dozen words."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" Ron questioned.

I felt my defenses rising. "No, I didn't. It didn't seem important at the time."

"That's bollocks and you know it," he spat. "You didn't want to talk about it, so you hid it from everyone. Just like the whole bloody affair."

As distant as Ron and I had become over the years, he still knew me. When I looked up, Harry was nodding in agreement, and I knew that they were going to be watching me at every turn until I proved that I could stay away from Draco.

"Fine. I might have had a bit of a breakdown afterward, but I really was okay just a few days later."

"Did you avoid Blaise while you were forcing yourself to be okay?" Ron asked.

Again, I breathed deeply, trying to calm myself before I answered him. "I didn't avoid him. I spent every night with him—"

"Okay. We get it. We don't need any more details than that," Harry interrupted, halting my speech.

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't going to tell you any of those details. When have I ever talked to the two of you about my sex life?"

Both of them blushed and I laughed. "Seriously, guys, I'm going to be okay. Please don't treat me like I'm going to just break apart or fall back into old patterns with Draco."

"Okay, Hermione," Harry began. "I won't interfere unless I see him hanging around. You've been happier since you've been with Blaise, and I don't want you to go back to where you were before."

"And I don't want to go there, either," I said. "I want to keep moving on. I want to be happy."

"With Blaise?" Ron asked.

My hesitation spoke volumes, so I thought quickly. "I'm still figuring that out, if I'm honest. It feels right, but I don't want to say that he's it for me. There's no way to really know that."

They exchanged a look that told me that they knew I was absolutely full of shite.

"Listen, I know you're scared," Harry said, turning to face me and looking me straight in the eye. "But I think you're still holding back with Blaise. I don't know if it's because you still love Malfoy or what, but you need to let go and tell him everything."

"He knows nearly everything, Harry. He knows more than anyone else does."

"I dealt with Pansy holding back for a long time. She thought that I could never really love her because of the past, but she was the one who couldn't open up to me," he explained. "I waited for her, but at one point, I nearly gave up. We fell together so easily—the physical part of our relationship was so good—but I almost walked away because she just wouldn't tell me what she was thinking about. I could see it when she was shutting down and shutting me out. Blaise is a smart bloke, Hermione. I'm sure he's not blind to it."

My stomach started to churn, and then Ron chimed in.

"And I didn't fully let go of you for a long time. Luna—she could tell. She knew when I was thinking of you."

I set my elbows on the table and tangled my fingers in my hair. Harry moved closer and wrapped an arm around me. "We're not trying to upset you. We're trying to help you, Hermione. This whole thing with Malfoy coming back… It's not something any of us expected."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to lash out at both of them, but I knew it wouldn't help.

_Of course I wasn't fucking expecting it! If I had known that Astoria and Lucius would be this fucking stupid, I wouldn't have agreed to Obliviate Draco in the first place!_

_"_ I know that you guys are trying to help," I managed to choke out. "I just need to sort this out on my own. I promise I'll ask for help if I need it, but I can't talk about Draco with you. I just can't."

Rising to his feet, Ron took a step and pulled me out of the booth, hugging me close. "I know it's hard, but you can't shut everyone out again. Will you please talk to someone?"

"I'll make an appointment with Penelope," I conceded. "And I'll tell Blaise why I'm doing it."

Ron squeezed me tighter and I wrapped my arms around his middle. "We've only just gotten you back, Hermione. I don't want to lose you again. It felt like we weren't friends for ages."

"We really weren't," I replied, though it was muffled by his chest.

With a laugh, he released me. "What was that?"

I repeated myself and we all exchanged sad looks.

Harry spoke first. "We all messed up, and we weren't there for you when you needed us. You were right when you told me off, Hermione. It shouldn't have taken years for us to repair things."

I looked around the restaurant, noticing that we'd drawn a lot of attention. "Come on. We're making a scene."

Ron shrugged his shoulders and Harry smirked. "Please. We make a scene everywhere we go. I'm trying to be serious right now."

"I know," I began. "And I appreciate that you admitted I was right, but there's nothing to be done about it now. We just can't let it all fall apart again."

"We won't," they said in unison, causing all three of us to laugh.

With that, we moved back towards Diagon Alley.

When we got back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, George pulled Harry aside, leaving me alone with Ron.

"You know I want you to be happy, right?" he asked. At my nod, he continued. "As soon as Malfoy comes near you — and he will — you need to distance yourself from him. If you don't — if you let him believe that you're okay with him coming round — he's going to make a move on you again. I can see it in his eyes, Hermione."

I released a sigh. "Harry said he's going to be watching out for me."

"Pretty soon, Harry will be off," he reminded me. "As soon as Pansy has the baby, you'll be left alone with Malfoy and Blaise."

Even though the thought made my anxiety flare up, I pushed it all behind my mask. "I know, and I'll be fine."

"What if Blaise is called away on a mission? I would assume that Malfoy won't be on any for the next few months."

"Then I'll go to work and do my job, and I'm sure Dra—Malfoy will do the same," I replied.

Ron shook his head. "The second you're left alone, he's going to try to get close to you again, Hermione. And don't think I missed that you almost called him Draco."

"Look," I began. "We've talked this through a lot today. I am going to do everything in my power to stay away from Draco, minus leaving the DMLE. I won't hide anything like I did before. I promise."

Once again, he hugged me close. "I want to believe you, but you didn't tell us about Diagon, and that worries me."

I wasn't going to continue trying to convince him that I was fine. "I know. That was wrong."

"Don't hide things from us again," he murmured into my hair. "Please don't disappear on us again."

And, although I wasn't sure I could keep it, I made a promise.

"I won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! My schedule is going to be changing a little bit in the near future. I will still be updating every Saturday, but the posts will likely be later in the day than they have been to this point. I'll be switching from night shift to days, so bear with me.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!


	21. Draco - May 2007, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, the next 15 occur in June. I'll likely be whipping out a 2007 calendar and figuring out exact dates to title the chapters with, lol
> 
> Let's check in with Draco, yeah?

As I sat at my desk in the open Auror office, I was all too aware of Blaise sitting just a few feet away, constantly checking his watch and looking at some Muggle device since the moment Granger had left. It was obvious that he was anxiously awaiting her return, likely jealous that she'd opted to spend her lunch hour with Potter. I nearly snorted at the thought — if he was jealous of Potter, he was in for a lifetime of pain.

However, I was so in tune with Blaise's actions that I found myself looking up with him every time a ding preceded the lift doors opening. After a few times, he turned towards me. "Expecting someone, Malfoy?"

"Nope," I responded. "I've seen you look up so many times that I've basically been trained to do it. Waiting for someone?"

Slouching in his seat, he ignored my question.

I continued to leaf through all the rehire paperwork Potter had given me, skimming the more boring parts of it. I signed on all the dotted lines, acknowledging all of the risks and agreeing to all the rules set forth by the Ministry. I'd done it all before, so I wasn't surprised by anything I saw.

When the lift chimed again, I looked up and saw Granger stepping out, Potter's arm linked with hers. Blaise noticed their arrival and immediately got up, walking over to her and greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. Replaced, Potter headed to his office while Blaise led Granger to hers, his hand resting low on her back. I couldn't hear anything they were saying, but I saw the small smile she gave him and the way it made him grin.

After the ball, I'd known that things between them were real, but this drove it home for me. The simple smiles and touches, the way they were so open about their relationship in the office — this wasn't the Golden Girl fake dating someone to take attention off of her single status. It was clear that Blaise loved her and that she cared for him, that they had a true partnership and looked after one another.

With a sigh, I returned to my boring documents, hoping that I'd feel that way someday.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Blaise was at his desk finishing up a case report and Potter came to retrieve him. "I need to speak with you privately about that case in Florence."

They both walked into Potter's office and the door closed behind them, leaving me alone in the department with a few other Aurors. One was a younger female — I was sure Blaise would've taken in an interest in her if he wasn't with Granger — and the other two were older males, both old comrades of Alastor Moody who didn't really enjoy having a former Death Eater in the department.

All day, I'd resisted the urge to walk over to Granger's office and ask for the books she'd promised me. I hadn't wanted to piss Blaise off on my first day back by chatting up his girlfriend… the one I'd fancied back at Hogwarts.

But I couldn't hold back anymore.

I just wanted to see her, to talk to her, to know if we'd really been friends before my accident. Since she was Granger, I knew I could trust her to be honest with me. She had no reason to lie to me and she'd always been willing to tell me the truth with no reservations.

Making a show of standing and stretching, I mentally readied myself for the conversation. I thought about what I'd say, how she could react, how I'd react in turn. If this interaction went badly, I'd piss off three well-respected people within the DMLE, and I didn't want that, especially on my first day back.

I slid my hands into the pockets of my Auror robes and walked to her office. The door was slightly ajar, so I took a moment to observe her. Her curls were pinned back and likely magically held in place. Her dress was Muggle and she wore no jewelry, though she did have makeup on. She held a quill between her fingers and was rolling it, the top of the feather dancing along the skin of her cheek. Somehow, I knew she was deep in thought. Her expression didn't give much emotion away, but there was definitely something on her mind.

Deciding it was now or never, I knocked on the doorframe.

Her eyes jumped up, meeting mine, and widened just a fraction. I pushed the door open further and said, "Hello, Granger."

"Malfoy," she responded. "How can I help you?"

_All business. Not rude, but no friendliness in her tone. She looked nervous, like she thought I was going to lash out and call her a Mudblood. Why?_

The quill spun faster between her fingers and she moved it away from her face. I didn't know how to proceed since she'd given me no clues and her fidgeting was increasing.

"How has your first day back been?" she asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

I could do this. I could answer her. It was totally normal. I'd come here to talk to her, and she'd asked me a question. She was starting the conversation — welcoming me — and I was freezing.

I cleared my throat. "It's been, well, rather boring, if I'm honest about it." She laughed the way she had at the ball and it bolstered my confidence. "I've just been signing my life away, taking all responsibility away from the Ministry if I get hurt."

"Standard protocol, I assure you," she said, giving me a cautious smile. "You weren't expecting to be back in the field your very first day, were you?"

Shrugging my shoulders, I replied, "I honestly wasn't sure what to expect, but that's been the story of my life since my accident."

At my words, she flinched and I thought I saw her guard go up.

"Yes, well, it was all very unfortunate," she stated, matter-of-factly. "Brooms are so bloody dangerous. I still absolutely refuse to fly on one—"

"You _still_ don't fly?" I asked.

Granger rolled her eyes. "Well I've just said that, haven't I?"

My brain's faulty connections led me to one fact. "But you flew on the back of a dragon. A broom isn't any more dangerous than that."

"And I've told you, Malfoy, I rode that dragon out of necessity. I wouldn't have done it if I'd had literally any other option," she answered, quick as ever.

My brain tried to make the connections, but there was nothing there. I couldn't remember that conversation or a time that we ever could've had it.

Looking her in the eyes, I admitted, "I can't remember much from the time I married Astoria until the accident. And I can only even really remember seeing you here a handful of times."

"Right," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine, Granger, really. I've come to terms with the fact that I have a couple of lost years," I replied, waving her off. "I actually came to see if you'd brought me any books."

"Books?"

"At the gala, you said you'd bring me some books today. I'm out of things to read."

She laughed. "You can't go to the library at Malfoy Manor and find something?"

"Not Muggle books. I read all the ones you gave me before while I was recovering," I explained.

With a look of shock on her face, Granger said, "Oh. Right. Well, uh, I'm sorry, but I haven't got anything for you today. I was… a little… I was drunk on Saturday night, and I didn't remember." As her cheeks flushed, I couldn't help smiling. Even at twenty-seven, she was clearly a rule follower. She didn't want to be seen as the type who got wild and let loose. "I don't really know what got into me. I just lost my head, and then when I woke up yesterday morning, I had the hangover from hell. Blaise had to feed me potions and then carry me to the shower. It was really quite embarrassing."

Rather than tease her, I asked, "I'm assuming you'll be here tomorrow?"

I didn't want to think about Blaise. Not right now when I had all of her attention. Her hand was on her chest, her thumb rubbing over her collarbone. I didn't know why, but I found it incredibly sexy. The movement drew my eyes in and I wanted to be the one to touch her, even if I knew it was completely out of line.

"Of course, I'll bring something for you tomorrow. That's not a problem." After a pause, she quickly added, "And how are Astoria and Scorpius? I'm sure it's going to be an adjustment for them — you being back at work."

_Astoria. Scorpius. Wife. Son. Eyes off Granger's chest. Look into her eyes._

When I looked straight into her eyes, I felt my heart speed up. I felt a connection to her, like my soul knew hers. Or my magic. Or something.

Damn.

A connection, maybe, but it was one I had failed to make, failed to complete. I wondered if she felt it too, or if it was all in my head.

"Yes, I think it'll take some adjusting, but Astoria is a good mother," I answered. "I'm sure they'll be fine. I'd be surprised if Scorpius even notices I'm missing. She'll keep him busy most of the day."

Forcing a smile, Granger said, "That's good. I'm glad that she's around to take care of him. I've heard that some of the old families just leave their children with the elves."

"We don't have elves," I responded.

She nodded. "I know, you've mentioned that before. Do some of the ones from the Manor still help you out?"

_How does she know…?_

"Usually they just provide meals for us. Astoria and I are both rubbish at cooking and we don't really live somewhere where takeaway is feasible. Not in London, like Blaise."

Granger laughed. "Yeah, we do rely on takeaway some nights, but we also cook a few nights a week."

"Do you live with him?" I asked, and she went pale.

After a moment, she collected herself. "We don't… officially. But I'm at his more often than not lately."

"That's usually how it goes, yeah?"

Again, she forced a smile. "I guess so. I've never really gotten to this point with anyone, so it's a bit different for me."

Potter's door must have opened while we were talking because, without warning, Blaise had sidled past me into Granger's office.

"Excuse me, Malfoy," he said, focusing on her. "Hermione, what time do you think you'll be ready to go?"

Looking at her watch, she replied, "An hour or so? I think I'm almost at a good stopping point."

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I think that works for me too. Draco, do you have a few minutes? Potter asked me to bring you up to speed on a few things."

"Of course," I responded. "Granger, I'll see you tomorrow."

Her eyes moved back to whatever she'd been working on before I interrupted. "I'll be here."

I followed Blaise back towards our desks, weaving through the office quickly.

When we reached my area, he cast a _Muffliato_. "Draco, what were you doing in her office?"

"Were you pissed Saturday night, as well?" I asked. "She told me she'd bring books for me. I went to get them from her, but she didn't remember."

Scowling, he said, "Don't think I've forgotten about the way you were obsessed with her. I knew that you coming back to work would be… interesting because of our relationship, but I didn't think you'd start sniffing around her the first day back—"

"I am _not_ sniffing around her. Astoria told me that Granger used to give me books. I want to be on good terms with her since we're all going to be working together again. I figured that was a good way to go about it," I explained. "I'm a married man. I'm not going to step out on my wife."

He scoffed. "You're absolutely right you won't. I won't allow it."

"Won't allow _what_? Won't allow her to talk to me?" I began. "I'm sure that'll go over well with a woman like Granger. Why don't you tell her that over dinner tonight and then let me know if she's still with you in the morning?"

Blaise shook his head. "You're still an arrogant prick. I'd have thought an accident like yours would be humbling."

"I've asked you before and I'll ask you again. What happened between us? We used to be best mates, and now you're calling me a prick and insinuating that I'm going to try to move in on your girlfriend."

People around the office were watching us, but I didn't care. They couldn't hear what we were saying and I wasn't going to draw my wand or hit him. I was sick and tired of trying to figure him out.

"I've always thought you were an arrogant prick, even when you were my best friend." Pausing, he brought his hands to his hips. "I gave you years to sort your shit out when it came to Hermione. Instead of being a man and apologising to her, you just ignored her and then married Astoria—"

"You think I don't know that?" I interrupted. "I know I never had the courage to ask her out or properly apologize for everything I ever did to her. I'm not trying to do that now, either."

Potter cancelled our charm and said, "Is there a problem here, Zabini?"

_Typical. Potter running to anyone else's side._

"No, I was just asking him what he was doing in Hermione's office. It's like he waited for you and I to be busy with our meeting," he replied.

Glaring, he said, "Reel it in, Zabini. You can't go all caveman every time another bloke talks to Hermione. She won't like it."

I held back the smirk that desperately wanted to make its way onto my face. I'd essentially said the same thing and I was sure that irritated Blaise.

"You've been around the Gryffindors too much. You're getting jealous as easily as Weasley did when we were teenagers," I taunted.

Potter turned his disapproving look on me. "Malfoy, that's enough. It's your first day back. You don't need to rile anyone up."

"On that note, I'm going to finish up the last of my paperwork," I said. "You're absolutely right. Very childish of me."

As I sat in my chair, I watched Blaise continuously look to Granger's office door. He wasn't doing anything work-related, just fuming and watching for her. Occasionally, he looked over at me and I would raise an eyebrow at him.

An hour later, Granger came out of her office, handbag slung over her shoulder. He stood as soon as she'd closed the door behind her, walking over to loop an arm around her waist. I watched them leave together and, at the last second, she looked over her shoulder and caught me.

She forced yet another smile and departed with Blaise.

* * *

I left the office shortly after Blaise and Granger, eager to get home and see Scorpius. While I'd told Granger that it would be an adjustment for them, it would also be an adjustment for me. Today was the first full day — other than our anniversary trip to Paris — that I'd spent away from Scorpius and it felt strange.

When I stepped through the Floo, he moved towards me as fast as his little legs would carry him. Astoria was sitting at the dining table with meals under stasis, looking sour.

"I thought you'd be home earlier. You left at seven-thirty."

Picking Scorpius up and hugging him close, I replied, "I had to meet with Potter before work. I'll be working til six every evening, but I'll be leaving later in the morning than I did today."

"Okay."

Honestly, I hadn't been expecting her to get upset so early on. First days of work were always unpredictable.

But she wouldn't know that.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll let you know if I'm going to be late from now on," I said.

Astoria looked up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be like this after one day. It was just… I had a harder time with it than I thought I would." She gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit. Let's eat. I do want to hear about your day."

And so I settled Scorpius in his highchair, getting him situated before sitting down.

As we ate, I told Astoria about the boring day — the paperwork, the meeting with Potter, the reintroduction to co-workers — and then she asked, "Did you see Blaise and Granger?"

Since I was taking a sip of water, I nodded.

"And how was that?"

I shrugged. "Blaise hovered over her. I don't know how she stands it. I went to her office because she was supposed to bring me books to borrow, but she was pissed when she promised that, so she didn't have them."

Smiling, Astoria said, "I thought she might have been a little out of it at the ball. She normally wouldn't let Blaise grab at her like that in public, I'm sure."

"I don't know. They seem pretty openly affectionate, even in the office."

She hummed in interest. "Well, that's unexpected."

"I thought so, too."

"Good for them," she began. "I'm happy that Blaise has found someone, even if she's not who I would've pictured for him."

As much as her comment made my hackles rise, I kept my thoughts to myself. It was clear that Astoria wanted me to think as little of Granger as possible. I wondered if I'd told her about my Hogwarts crush or the feelings that had lingered into adulthood, but decided I didn't want to open that can of worms.

After dinner, I spent time with Scorpius and put him to bed. I had missed him all day and I cherished the time I had with him after work. At the end of a long day, his baby giggles and little smiles were exactly what I needed.

When I walked into the master bedroom, Astoria was lounging on our bed in a silky green nightgown that left little to the imagination; I could see the outline of her curves, her nipples, and almost the entirety of her thighs were bare. She was reading an actual book, which was unusual, and her hair was curled.

It hadn't been curled when I got home.

"What's this?" I asked.

She looked up and smirked. "I just wanted to look nice for you."

Starting to undress slowly and methodically, I moved across the room. "Oh really?"

When I was left in my shorts, I'd made it to my side of the bed. Astoria had set the book on her bedside table and moved towards me, kneeling on the mattress and looking into my eyes. She reached under the waistband and stroked me until I was fully erect.

As I wrapped my arms around her, she kissed me hard and I groaned when she tightened her grip on me. Her lips travelled along my jawline to my ear and she sucked the lobe into her mouth.

"I missed you today," she whispered. "I was thinking about you all day."

I couldn't say the same and it made me feel like a bastard.

Instead, I directed her lips back to mine and kissed her, my hands tangled in the curls she'd coaxed her hair into. I felt product on them, holding them firmly in place, but I tried to focus on the fact that she'd made the effort.

Her hand stopped stroking and started pushing my shorts down impatiently. Rather than taking my time, I wanted to do this quickly.

And, of course, that made me feel guilty. Astoria was my _wife_.

She deserved more than a quick shag where I was solely focused on my needs, but I needed to lose myself for a few moments. I needed to forget about the jealousy I'd felt at the ball and today in the office. I needed to forget the moment I'd felt something between me and Granger.

I needed to remember what my life was like and that I couldn't do anything to change it.

* * *

When I got into work the next morning, there was a stack of books on my desk with a note on top.

_Malfoy,_

_I hope you enjoy these as much as I did. I'm out of the office today, but I wanted to leave these for you before I went since I forgot yesterday._

_Let me know when you need more._

She hadn't even signed it, but I obviously knew it was from her, and I found myself tracing the letters she'd written on the small scrap of parchment. The script looked familiar, like I had seen it recently, but that was impossible.

Blaise was also out of office and I wondered if that was a coincidence or not.

With a sigh, I pushed the stack of books to the side and tried to convince myself that it was good that she wasn't here. After the chemistry I'd felt yesterday, I needed to stay away from her.

I was married. I had a son to think about. She was with Blaise.

Granger had always been in the back of my mind and that apparently hadn't changed with my accident. Even when I forgot everything else, I somehow remembered what I'd felt for her. The inconvenience of that was nearly more than I could stand.

Instead of thinking of Granger, I tried to concentrate on Astoria, on remembering the previous night. She'd definitely held my attention, making me focus on her in a way that I didn't often manage. Every inch of her had been primped and polished to perfection, and I'd appreciated the time she'd spent getting ready.

I thought of the roll of her hips, of the way her blue eyes had glossed over, of the way she'd looked when she was on top of me.

But I realised those thoughts weren't really appropriate for the office. Since I hadn't yet been assigned anything, I wasn't really sure what I should be doing and Potter still hadn't arrived. I started to worry; it was strange that he, Granger, and Zabini were missing from this neck of the Ministry.

Eventually, the younger female Auror made her way to me. "Draco Malfoy, right?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes," I replied, standing to greet her. "And your name is?"

"Melody Travers, but everyone calls me Mel," she answered.

"It's nice to meet you, Mel. Are you working on anything now?"

She nodded. "I've been helping Blaise look into Florence. They think there's a group of dark wizards with ties to Britain gathering there with the intent to steal something. We're not sure what they're after, but there are enough strange things happening that we're concerned. I think Blaise, Harry, and Hermione are probably in Italy speaking to their Minister for Magic today to get a better feel for things."

"Would it be okay if I jumped in with you? Potter didn't give me an assignment yesterday."

Mel smiled. "Of course. Blaise did mention that you'd been here before and were great with the research part. I'm looking for potential targets in Florence."

With that, we settled into a conference room together, going over a list of magical artifacts housed in Florence.

Potter came into the office that afternoon and told me I'd be working with Mel and Blaise behind the scenes for now, since Hermione was working on a different case and I was the next best person for research purposes. Blaise was less than enthused, but I was getting on with Mel well enough; we made a good team.

I slowly settled into a routine over the next few weeks. Every morning, I'd get to the DMLE around ten o'clock, check in with Potter, and sit down to work with Blaise and Mel. I'd pointedly avoid Granger's office. On the few occasions that she came out into the department, she always moved quickly unless she was with Potter or Blaise.

At lunchtime, Blaise would always escort her down to the cafeteria or somewhere else, making her leave the office. A few times, I'd caught her looking over at me as they walked by, his hand on the small of her back or her waist. I always tried to smile at her, but she usually looked away when I noticed her.

As much as I wanted to ask her why she hadn't spoken to me since my first day, I figured some questions were better left unanswered.

When I got home in the evenings, I spent time with Scorpius and then went to bed with Astoria wrapped around me. On weekends, we'd go to dinner at the Manor and my parents seemed to be on edge whenever the conversation moved to the DMLE.

I'd thought that going back to work would help me to find a missing piece of myself, but it hadn't happened so far, and I was quickly growing disappointed.

However, by the end of the month, Potter was preparing for paternity leave and I was assigned to work on a strange case on my own. A potioneer in Diagon Alley had been accused of selling highly-regulated potions —like Polyjuice and Amortentia — without a license to do so. So far, no one had been able to produce hard evidence of this, and the man seemed to be extremely canny. Whenever a person walked through the doors asking for the potions by name, he would immediately give the appropriate response: "I haven't got a license. You'll need to go to another shop or through the Ministry."

Of course the Gryffindors in the department had gone in, wands blazing. I knew this was going to need a more subtle approach and I was eager to begin.

"I do need to wrap up a few things with Blaise and Mel," I said. "I don't want to leave them hanging when we're so close to cracking what's going on in Florence."

Potter nodded. "This potioneer has been at it for months. Another few days won't hurt."

"And how is Pansy?" I asked, trying to be polite.

"She's honestly a nightmare," he grumbled. "You'd think she's never done this before. She complains that she's fat and then sends me to Fortescue's. She cries whenever James or Sev does something 'sweet' or 'grown-up'. She nearly hexed Hermione when we had her come to the house a few days ago because she said 'You have nothing to worry about — this is your third time around!' And those are the tame parts."

I laughed, happy that I'd not caved to Astoria's demands for another baby. "I still think the two of you are a strange couple."

"It works for us, minus the last month or so of a pregnancy. I'm honestly thinking this will be it for us, though. Ron and Luna can keep having kids, but three is plenty for me."

I couldn't stop the words that flew from my mouth. "Do you think Blaise and Granger will get married and start having kids soon?"

"I honestly don't know," Potter said. "I'd like them to. I know Hermione wants to be a mother, and I'd like our kids to go to Hogwarts together, but I don't know if things are that serious between them yet."

I nodded. "They do _seem_ serious. I mean, I rarely see one without the other."

"I think Blaise is ready, but Hermione… it's hard to say. I think she's still afraid to let him in completely."

And, even though it was horrible and wrong, I felt happy that she hadn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> We're moving into the chunk of chapters that is probably my favorite for the whole story next week. I can't wait to share it with you!
> 
> As always, feel free to reach out to me wherever you can find me - Facebook, Tumblr, etc.


	22. Hermione, 4-6th June 2007

The past few weeks had been atrocious. Wearing a mask and keeping my emotions buried every single day was a special kind of hell, and I'd taken to carrying my journal with me everywhere I went again. I hadn't wanted to bother Harry and Pansy with my crazy, and I _couldn't_ talk to Blaise. I'd made the appointment with Penelope, but she hadn't been able to squeeze me in til early June.

I started arriving at work early every day, barricading myself in my office. I only entered the department when absolutely necessary, and I always made sure to keep my eyes down as much as possible. There were times that I couldn't resist looking up to catch a glimpse of Draco and, more often than not, his eyes were on me. I let Blaise behave like a caveman, accompanying me everywhere without a fuss, because I felt guilty for not telling him I was struggling.

And I didn't know if he really thought I was fine, but he hadn't asked me how I was doing. That surprised me so much — he'd always been so in tune with my emotions.

Food was becoming hard to stomach again and sleep was eluding me, even in Blaise's bed. I'd been connecting with him physically as often as possible, but I hadn't really been with him emotionally. Our sex life was bordering on rough and possessive most days, the initial gentleness and caution abandoned. Whenever I came, Blaise wanted to hear his name escaping my lips, and he made sure it happened multiple times a night.

Honestly, my body had never felt so sated. It was my mind that was the problem.

It didn't matter what I did, or how hard I clung to Blaise, or how much I hid in my office — my brain was still fixated on Draco. Very little could distract it.

As Pansy's due date drew nearer, Ron's words haunted me.

_The second you're left alone, he's going to try to get close to you again…_

I couldn't stop thinking about it, but I'd also worked so hard at keeping my distance that I wasn't sure if he'd even try to come near me. There was no way Draco hadn't noticed — he'd taken to sending my books back with Blaise, and he hadn't asked for more. Still, I knew he was watching me closely whenever I did make an appearance.

The first week, Blaise had also noticed and commented on it, but I'd done my best to reassure him, telling him that I wasn't paying attention, that I hadn't really noticed.

But I had. I still did.

I just couldn't make myself admit it to anyone and I'd built my Occlumency shields up to a point that they were impenetrable. Thankfully, Blaise hadn't really practiced mind magic at all, so he didn't really notice that I was walling parts of myself off from him.

Knowing I couldn't carry on like this forever, I was counting the days to my appointment with Penelope. I needed advice. I needed to know what to do to navigate this situation successfully. Every option I'd come up with seemed insufficient.

* * *

On the fourth of June — the day I was supposed to have my appointment — Pansy went into labour and I was summoned to Grimmauld Place to stay with the boys. Since I was allowed to care for the kids, I knew that Harry also hadn't noticed I'd slipped back into a poor mental state. I couldn't blame him — he had a lot going on with Pansy, and the situation we were helping with in Florence was quickly escalating.

Since Blaise was the only Auror fluent in Italian, he'd been designated as the lead on the case and could be called away at any time. It felt like Ron's words were going to come true more and more every day. Soon, I'd be left alone with Draco, and I had to be able to cope with it.

When I arrived at Grimmauld Place, James threw his arms around me. "Auntie Mi! The new baby is coming!"

"I know! Isn't it exciting?" I said, giving him my first genuine smile in days as I crouched down to hug him.

His dark hair was so like Harry's, but his eyes were all Pansy. James was a perfect mix of the two, while Sev was the spitting image of his father already. I thought it was fitting that the child named Severus had inherited Lily Potter's eyes, one of those perfect circles rarely seen outside of novels.

Looking frustrated, Pansy made her way into the kitchen. "Honestly, you'd think we'd never done this before with the way Harry is panicking. How he kept his cool when Voldemort was after him, I have no idea."

I laughed, knowing that she was actually nervous herself and trying to deflect attention to Harry. Her hands were rubbing over her baby bump and she was starting to wince.

"Contraction?" I asked, picking James up and moving to her side and offering my free hand.

She took it and squeezed it lightly for only a second. "They're not that bad yet. I'm okay."

"Mum, is the baby a boy or a girl?" James enquired.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him. "You know that we won't know until he or she is born. Your father never wants to know beforehand."

"I hope it's a girl," he said. "I don't want another brother."

I kissed his little cheek. "But if it is a boy, you'll still be a great big brother to him."

He wriggled, wanting to be put down. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he ran off. "I will!"

"I can't believe I'll have three children under three. I don't care that it'll only be for a week or two. It's still horrifying," Pansy said. "I joked about being like Molly Weasley, but I honestly think I could end up with that many if I don't put a stop to it."

"Are you ready to?" I asked.

Pointedly looking at me, she said, "I think this is it for us. It's time for someone else to take over populating the wizarding world."

My heart stopped, knowing what she was implying.

"Blaise and I haven't even been together for a year, Pansy!"

She shrugged. "Harry and I dated for what, a year before we got engaged? And then we were married six months later. You're six months in now, Granger."

"I know, but I don't feel ready. Let's just… not talk about this today," I replied. "Let's focus on little Potter number three getting here safely."

Letting out a sigh, she said, "Distract me. Tell me how things have been with Draco. Harry will only say that you're staying away from each other."

"That's a fairly accurate account of it." Pansy gestured for me to continue. "He talked to me his first day back, and then Blaise went all possessive on me, and I haven't approached Draco since. I can feel him watching me sometimes, but I don't speak to him."

She hummed, acknowledging what I'd said, but not contributing anything to the conversation she'd started.

"It's not that I think I _can't_ talk to him, but Blaise got so upset. He is the last person I want to worry. He's spent years worrying about me," I continued. "And I don't know how I'll feel if Draco tries to be friends with me. I don't know if I could stand it."

Pansy's lips parted and she sucked in a breath. "I think you're doing the right thing, staying away from him. Nothing good will come from you two getting close again. You're like fire and petrol. As soon as you touch, everything is going to go up in flames."

Deep down, I knew she was probably right. A casual hello, a chat about a book from time to time — that was all fine and well. But if I let him get close to me again, we'd eventually spark and combust, the way we had a little over three years ago. We could exist in each other's orbit with no problems, but as soon as we got too close, it was all too much.

"I'm going to stay as far away from him as I can. Seeing him every day has been hard, but I've managed to do alright so far," I responded.

Harry came rushing into the room with Sev on his hip and Pansy's hospital bag over his shoulder, halting our conversation. "Hey, Hermione. Are you sure you can manage these two for a couple of days?"

With a nod, I said, "Of course! I did spend time with them when I was staying here. I'm not utterly useless with children."

"Blaise is more than welcome to come and stay with you," he added. "I should've told you earlier."

"I'll text him. I'm sure he'd love to come and spend time with the boys too."

Sev was passed off to me. He smiled and laughed when he saw me and I hugged him close. "Hi, little one. I've missed you."

Wrapping an arm around Pansy, Harry said, "We appreciate this. Ron and Luna were willing to take them, but Luna's—"

"Pregnant and has Stella to look after. Don't even worry about it, Harry. We're all going to be just fine. I'll keep their bedtimes and make sure they're properly fed. Just let me know when the baby gets here," I interrupted. "Seriously, we're good. Get out of here before she has the baby right here. No offense, Pansy, but I don't want to see that."

Pansy chuckled. "Granger, it's my body, and I don't even want to see _that_ happen. They offered me a mirror and I nearly _Avada'd_ them on the spot."

"Is that true?" I asked Harry.

He shrugged. "She doesn't let me in the delivery room. What is it that you always say, Pans?"

"Cast a _Muffliato_ , Granger," Pansy replied, gesturing to Sev. After I did, she continued, "I don't want him to see something the size of a watermelon squeezing out of my cunt. He'll never look at it the same way after."

My eyes widened in shock at her words, though I wasn't sure why. It certainly hadn't been the most vulgar thing she'd ever said.

"Well, thank you for that mental image," I quipped.

Harry rolled his eyes. "She certainly has a way with words, yeah?"

"I'm telling the truth! It's not like I'm exaggerating! The watermelon might be a small one, but it's still a fucking watermelon!"

Laughing, I gave each of them a one-armed hug. "I love you guys, but you're utterly ridiculous." Pansy looked like she was going to protest again, but I stopped her. "Now go push your watermelon out."

"James Sirius!" Pansy shouted and little footsteps made their way towards us.

When he appeared, Harry picked him up and both he and Pansy hugged and kissed their first-born. "We'll see you in a few days, James. Be good for Auntie Mi and Uncle Blaise," Harry said. "Let's trade, Hermione."

I handed over Sev and took James. After saying goodbye to both boys, Pansy was misty-eyed and her hand rested on her belly. "I can't wait to be normal again," she said with a sniffle. "These hormones are absolutely foul."

I set James down and Harry passed Sev back to me before wrapping an arm around Pansy again. "You're fine, love. This is almost a normal state for you at this point," he teased, earning himself a glare and a slap. "Hermione, you can call me if you need anything. I have my phone and the battery should last a few days. I'll let you know if it doesn't."

"Go. We're fine. We won't need anything," I replied, shooing them. "We're going to go upstairs and find something to do, aren't we, boys?"

James clapped his hands enthusiastically and Sev mimicked his older brother.

Turning, I made my way towards the stairs with the boys.

For the first time in weeks, I was genuinely happy and not thinking about Draco or Blaise or the messy emotional state I was in. James and Sev were giving me purpose, and I was content with them.

* * *

After work, Blaise stepped through the Floo. I was already seated at the dining table, tearing food into bite-size pieces for Sev and watching James to make sure he actually ate. I'd put mine and Blaise's food under stasis for later on. As soon as he arrived, James wiggled his way out of his booster seat.

"Hey there, James!" Blaise said enthusiastically, lifting him up and shaking him.

"Blaise! He's been eating! You don't want to do that!" I scolded. "He's going to puke all over the place."

Looking chastened, he set James down. "Your Auntie Mi is right. We don't want you getting sick. Sit down and finish dinner and then we'll do something fun."

Once James was settled again, Blaise made his way to me and kissed me lightly. "How have things been going today?"

"Oh, we've had fun. It's been a nice little break from work," I replied with a smile. "I'm glad you're here now, though. These two are little tornadoes when they really get going around the house."

"I'm going to change. I stopped home and grabbed some things. I'll be right back," he said.

I continued overseeing dinner and listening to the little kid chatter. James was talking a mile a minute about the new baby and how he hoped it was a girl. Laughing and interjecting when he'd let me, I just played along. I felt a little worried about how badly he wanted a sister, but there was no reasoning with an almost-three-year-old about something like that.

When Blaise came back downstairs, he was dressed casually in lounge pants and a plain white t-shirt. He looked positively fit and I had to remind myself we had two children to care for. The tasks, like cleaning up dinner and getting the boys ready for bed, didn't stop me from fantasising, though. As confused as my brain seemed to be, my body was completely on board with spending every moment possible in bed with Blaise.

Once James and Sev were tucked in for the night, we headed back down to the kitchen to eat. I set the two plates on the table and sat down across from Blaise. He conjured two glasses and filled them with an _Aguamenti_.

"So what did you do today?" I asked. "The two little monsters made it hard for me to talk to you earlier."

Smiling, he replied, "I made some headway on Florence. We think that there might be a target that'll be hit over the weekend. I'm going to Portkey there tomorrow morning to talk to their DMLE."

"That's something. I know how frustrating this case has been for you and Mel."

Blaise shrugged. "It's going to wrap up soon. She and Malfoy put a few key things together and now we're almost there. I'll just be glad when I can stop travelling back and forth so much."

_Draco._

"Me too," I replied automatically. "I know you haven't been gone overnight, but I do miss you when I'm on my own."

"Oh, is that so?" he asked, and I could hear the innuendo dripping from his voice. "Well, Ms. Granger, I'll have you know that I miss you when I'm on my own too. In fact, I may spend a somewhat unhealthy amount of time thinking about our… reunions."

At his words, the heat bloomed within me again.

"Finish eating. We should make sure the boys stay asleep before we start any of this," I said.

With a smirk, he picked up another bite of food. After he'd swallowed, he kept teasing me. "I like the way you think. I wasn't sure if you'd be on my menu tonight since we're at Potter's house."

"Oh. That hadn't even occurred to me. Maybe we shouldn't—"

He reached across the table and held a finger to my lips. "We'll be quiet so we don't disturb the boys, and we'll make sure to _Scourgify_ any surface we defile."

"Magic is rather useful for that," I said primly.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I was down to my knickers and t-shirt, straddling Blaise's hips and kissing him hard. His hands were skimming up and down my inner thighs, never making their way to the apex. I ground against him, my knickers sliding against the fabric of his lounge pants.

"Oh, fuck," he hissed, his hands winding their way around my back. After he unhooked my bra, he thrusted up towards me again. "I need you, Tesoro."

Reaching for his waistband, I pulled it down just enough to expose him and pushed my knickers to the side, gliding along him again. "I don't want to get naked, just in case," I explained. "Are you okay with this?"

In response, he grabbed my hips and guided me down onto his cock. I worked my way down with shallow movements, adjusting to him again. "I'm more than okay with it," he said quietly. "Any way I can have you is fine with me."

I kissed him again, sat up fully, and started to ride him. His hands worked their way under the hem of my t-shirt and slid up to my breasts, his fingers starting to tease my nipples. Soft touches — the friction of his fingertips dancing across them — made me lean into his touch, desperate for more. He eventually gave in, pinching a bit harder and making me moan.

"Quiet," he said. "If you can't be quiet, I'll have to stop."

My eyes popped open and focused on him, on our surroundings. Shifting my hips faster, I bit the inside of my cheek to stifle the next moan of pleasure that had threatened to escape.

"Much better," he praised before releasing my nipples and wrapping his arm around the base of my spine. He pulled me down closer, making me grind against him. "Come for me. We don't have much time."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice breathy.

"The kids," he responded. "We don't want to get caught."

Blaise tangled one of his hands in my hair, pulling me down to his lips and increasing his pace. As he moved faster, I did too, and my clit started rubbing against him in just the right way. I gasped, breaking the kiss.

"I've got you," he said, his movements continuing as mine started to stutter. "Kiss me. I'll help you stay quiet."

I was helpless in that moment, unable to resist doing exactly what he said. Somehow, he always knew exactly what I needed, even more so than Draco had. As I thought that, I saw Draco's face in my mind, his blond hair falling across his forehead as he made love to me, his grey eyes watching me as I came. Even though it was wrong, I kissed Blaise harder, spurring him on, and in a matter of seconds, I was crying out into his mouth. I poured every conflicted feeling I had into the sounds, nearly sobbing against his lips.

And he was right behind me, groaning as he thrust into me one final time, completely oblivious to what had just happened in my mind.

I was so thankful he would never try to read my mind.

When I rolled off him, collapsing onto my pillow, he flipped to his side and wrapped an arm around my waist. Nuzzling against my neck, he said, "That was amazing. It might have even been hotter with clothes on."

I forced a laugh out, unable to speak after what had just happened. I wanted distance, not our normal cuddling and pillow talk. I wanted to be on my own to try and figure out why I'd made the comparison when I hadn't in so long.

Blaise kept talking. "It was almost like a glimpse of the future."

That phrase made me look at him. "What?"

"The future, when we have kids. We'll have to be like that instead of how we are now," he said sleepily. "We'll have to learn how to be quiet like that every time."

My heart started racing in my chest, and not in a good way. I was on the verge of panicking and pushing him away. I couldn't make any words come out, but he didn't keep speaking, either. I felt his breaths level out against my neck, his lips just a fraction of an inch away from my skin.

I tried to slow my breathing, to push the overwhelming feelings of betrayal and guilt down. I'd mentally betrayed him and then he'd told me he wanted to have kids with me. I'd thought about another man while I was coming and Blaise only wanted me.

Forever.

Staring at the ceiling, I waited for him to turn away, to roll to the opposite side like he often did right after dozing off. I was still panicking, the emotions coursing through me at warp speed.

* * *

Halfway through the night, Sev woke up and wouldn't settle down again. I carried him back to our bed, holding him tight against my chest.

"Do you want to sleep here with me, love?" I whispered. "I know your mum won't like it, but we don't have to tell her."

He nodded and I climbed back into bed. Blaise's eyes fluttered open for a minute and he looked at me with Sev. A smile crossed his face, and I knew he was picturing the future again. Hell, I was nearly picturing it because he'd brought it up.

Except it scared the shit out of me. I wasn't smiling about it, even though I knew I should be. This is what I had wanted, part of why I had Obliviated Draco in the first place. I wanted my own family, complete with a man who was only mine and fully devoted to me.

So why did it scare me so much when Blaise said he wanted to give me that?

I tried to focus on Sev, rubbing his little back and calming him down. After a few minutes, he was sleeping soundly. I slowly shifted around, trying to get comfortable again so I could get a few hours of sleep. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to find the right position.

"Put him down in the middle," Blaise suggested, his voice deep with sleep. "That way he can't fall off. We're both light enough sleepers that we'll wake if he tries to get up."

I carefully laid Sev down between us and he stayed asleep, gravitating towards me slowly. I rolled onto my side and faced Blaise. His eyes met mine and I smiled, trying to reassure him.

"I know I freaked you out," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I just — I thought…" A sigh escaped him. "I thought that's where this was heading."

I knew I had to say something. "I just wasn't expecting you to bring it up quite like that," I said, avoiding the major problem. "It's not that I don't want it. Just… not quite yet."

"Well, obviously," he replied, his tone teasing. "I do want you all to myself for a bit longer."

I smiled again, but this time it was genuine. "That sounds good to me."

* * *

A sharp tapping sound woke me in the morning. When I opened my eyes, I saw that both James and Sev were between us in the bed. James' forehead was against Blaise's shoulder, and my heart melted the tiniest bit.

Getting up from the bed carefully, I walked over to the window, unlatching it and letting the owl in. Harry had sent a short note, his untidy scrawl taking up most of the small piece of parchment.

_It's a girl. Lily Potter, middle name is a point of contention at the moment, born just before midnight. Pansy is obviously doing well since she's fighting with me, though she said her 'baby factory has been shut the fuck down'. Hope the boys weren't too much trouble. We'll be home tomorrow._

As I read the note, my smile grew wider and wider. I was so happy for Harry and Pansy. Their family was complete, and I had another child to love on. I couldn't wait to meet little Lily.

"Blaise?" I said quietly. His eyes fluttered open slowly, settling on James when he realised I wasn't the one snuggled against him. He smiled and threw an arm over him.

"Morning, Tesoro. When did he get here?"

"I really don't know," I admitted. "Harry owled. They have a little girl and Pansy is already telling him she's done having babies now."

He grinned at me. "That's wonderful. I'm happy for them."

"You need to get up if you're going to work. It's nearly eight," I said.

"Come back to bed and snuggle with us," he replied. "I have some time. My Portkey isn't until eleven and I brought everything home with me."

I pursed my lips, knowing I shouldn't give in, that I should go downstairs and start making breakfast for the boys.

Blaise pouted at me, reaching over and settling a hand on Sev's back. "I'll stay here with them either way, but I'd rather we're all together."

Laughing, I set Harry's note down on the bedside table and got back under the covers. I gently moved Sev closer to James and leaned over both boys, meeting Blaise halfway and kissing him softly. "Okay. Just a few more minutes."

* * *

By Wednesday, I was back at work, and Blaise was in Italy for the second time in a week. With Harry gone, most people looked to me as a point person. Though I wasn't an Auror, I was still viewed as Harry's second in command. I didn't know if it was because I was another member of the Golden Trio or if Harry had told people to come to me.

I'd spent the morning giving direction on cases I wasn't entirely familiar with, speed reading and trying to find the answers each person needed, and I was more than a little frustrated. My own work sat on my desk, completely untouched, and I closed my eyes, bringing my fingers to my temples and rubbing at the tension I felt. When that didn't help, I braced my elbows on my desk and rested my forehead in my palms.

When there was a knock on my door, I didn't look up; I didn't want to see another Auror for the rest of the day. I sighed and said, "Come in."

"Everything okay, Granger?"

That voice, so deep and masculine and full of concern, was so ingrained in my memories. It came from the Draco that loved me and nearly broke me. I couldn't do this right now.

"Just a busy, stressful morning," I said, still not looking at him. I knew there were tears in my eyes. "What can I help you with, Malfoy?"

There was silence for a few seconds and then I heard my door close. When I glanced up, he was still there, leaning against my door. I felt my lips part, a protest trying to form, but he shook his head.

"Take a breath, Granger," he said. "Take ten minutes to collect yourself. You can fall apart in front of me. I won't tell anyone."

I hadn't been ready to completely fall apart until he'd said that, a phrase he'd said to me at the start of this whole mess.

The tears spilled from my eyes and I looked away, wiping at them. He didn't move or say anything, but I felt his eyes on me. His gaze still gave me goosebumps, somehow feeling different than anyone else's. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Why are you in here?"

"I… It's been a long time since I've said hello to you," Draco said. "You're always with Blaise, and I remember how he was my first day back. I didn't want to cause you any problems."

I felt one of the wounds on my heart start reopening; he sounded so uncertain, the same way he had the first time he'd come to my office after his honeymoon.

I forced myself to respond. "It's fine. You wouldn't have."

"What do you need, Granger?" he asked. "You're wound so tight right now. How can I help?"

I stared at him blankly. "I… Distract me. Tell me something. Anything."

"Okay, I can do that. I took Scorpius to Flourish and Blotts over the weekend. He loves it when I read to him," Draco said, his eyes still surveying me, gauging my reaction.

I closed my eyes, blinking the tears back.

_Scorpius. He's spending his weekends with his son, just like I wanted him to. Everything is working out the way I wanted it to._

"I read to James and Sev when I'm at Harry's house," I managed. "What are Scorpius' favourites?"

"Granger…"

I looked at him. "Please. Tell me. I want to hear about S-Scorpius."

"He loves anything about animals. The one I bought over the weekend was about a niffler." He paused for a moment. "His favourite is one about a little dragon named Norbert, though."

I laughed and wiped at my eyes. "You know who wrote that, right?"

Shaking his head, Draco replied, "I've no idea. I didn't look at the author."

"He's not listed, but it was Hagrid. Well, actually, it was Luna who did the writing, but Hagrid told her the story. Don't you remember Norbert from first year?"

I saw him think back. "You're fucking kidding me. He really did have a dragon?"

"He did," I confirmed. "And the night we all got detention, we'd handed him off to some dragon keepers on their way to see Ron's brother."

After a moment, he smiled and I couldn't breathe. I hadn't expected to see that look on his face ever again. He was so fucking open, the way he used to be with me. I immediately raised my guard, shuttering my mind.

"Wow, Granger. You were a dragon smuggler at age twelve and then you actually rode one at eighteen," he teased. "What on earth will you do next?"

"I'm living a much quieter life now, thank you very much," I said primly, sticking to banter to force the feelings in my chest down. "So, isn't that a bit egotistical? Draco buying dragon books?"

Chuckling, he said, "Maybe. I've always loved dragons. Most children in the magical world grow up reading about them."

"Makes sense."

Again, I felt his eyes running over me, likely taking in my sudden change. I hoped he would leave soon so I could let the charade drop and try to get myself back in order before Blaise got back.

"Okay, you seem better, but not completely. Do you want to get out of here for a little while? Go to lunch or something?"

_What the fuck?_

"I don't think that's a good idea," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Hermione Granger does not seem like the kind of witch who stays away from blokes just because she's got a jealous boyfriend."

_My name on his lips. And I'd said his._

"It's not because of Blaise. I need to be here since Harry isn't. Haven't you seen the people parading in and out of my office all day?"

Draco nodded. "Of course. That's why you're so stressed. People normally leave you be?"

"Mostly, other than the few Aurors I'm working directly with. Haven't you noticed?" I asked.

A pink tinge rose to his cheeks, and I knew that he had noticed, which meant he'd been watching my office. Which meant he'd seen Blaise coming and going, closing the door and giving us privacy…

Meeting my eyes, he said, "Even you have to eat, Granger. Surely they won't miss you for half an hour. We can just eat in the cafeteria."

I shook my head. "Thank you, but it's really not a good time."

Shoulders slumping, he turned the doorknob and pulled the door open. "Alright. I guess I'll see you around then."

"Close the door?" I asked.

With a sad smile, he did, and I had just enough time to throw up a Silencing Charm before I started sobbing uncontrollably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I cannot contain how excited I am to post next week's chapter. If BreathOfThePhoenix wouldn't murder me in my sleep, I'd do it right now.
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me to this point! I know it's been a long journey!


	23. Draco - 7th June 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the late post! I hope it was worth the wait! 
> 
> Anything in italics is inside Draco's head... thoughts or *gasp* a memory.

**_“Memory … like an old music box, it will lie silent for long years;_ **

**_then a mere nothing, a jerk, a tremor, will start the spring,_ **

**_and from beneath its decent covering of dust,_ **

**_it will talk to us of forgotten passion and desire.”_ **

**_\- Thomas Burke_ **

* * *

Since Wednesday afternoon, my mind had been fixated on the conversation I'd had with Granger and how she'd behaved in my presence. There was clearly more going on with her than she was willing to admit. She'd looked exhausted and overwhelmed, like she hadn't been able to sleep for a week. Work stress wouldn't phase her in that way; she'd been through Potter's paternity leave twice already.

I'd wanted to help her in any way I could and it drove me crazy that she wouldn't let me take her out of that office. I knew we weren't friends, but she needed a break.

Her tears, the forced conversation, the way she'd asked me to talk so she could take her mind off things… I could tell she needed more than she was asking for, but I didn't know how to handle her and I didn't want to come between her and Blaise. On my first day, he'd made it more than clear that he didn't want me to be alone with her.

The broken expression on her face had haunted me for the rest of the day and I knew she'd silenced the room as soon as I'd closed the door. I'd stood there for a minute, waiting to hear the cries I knew she'd kept at bay while I was in her office, but they never came. Even though it nearly killed me, I'd walked away, knowing that it wasn't my place to push her to open up or to be the one who comforted her.

But I'd dreamt of her and I'd known I would be back at her door when given the opportunity. I had to check on her.

When I walked into the office on Thursday morning, Blaise and Mel were moving frantically, trying to get things together. They'd been in Italy twice already this week — I was beginning to think that they should just stay there until this case was wrapped up.

Greeting me with a smile, Mel said, "It's happening this weekend. We've identified a target and determined that it'll be relatively unprotected. This is the kind of chance they've been waiting for."

"Do you need an extra wand in the mix?"

She grimaced. "I don't think Blaise will really want you to come with us, and I don't know if Harry cleared you for field work before he went out."

"Potter cleared me," I stated. "If Zabini wants me to come, just let me know. I'm working on my potioneer case, but I haven't made much headway yet."

"I'll let him know you offered," she replied. "Thank you, Draco. I'm going to try to get to the bottom of why he has such a huge problem with you. You'd be an asset to our team."

Nodding, I said, "Stay safe out there. Don't worry about me and Blaise. We'll eventually work things out. We always have."

I watched her walk away, her long blonde hair tied up in a knot on top of her head. Her wand was stuck through it and I nearly laughed. While she was a bit different from most purebloods, Mel was certainly a great Auror.

As I made my way to my desk, Blaise cut me off and walked into Granger's office. It took all of my willpower to not follow him in, though I had no desire to see him kissing her senseless. I continued on, sitting down in my chair and opening the case file that had been the bane of my existence for the past week.

When I read over all the information the Ministry had on this rogue potioneer, I was shocked no one had gone after him yet. They'd been collecting data for years and he was still operational.

The thought of the wrong person getting their hands on something like Amortentia made my blood boil. I'd seen too many girls given love and lust potions at revels when I was teenager. It made them so incredibly pliant.

Before long, I heard Blaise come out of Granger's office, shouting out to Mel and a few others, and they all headed for the lifts, carrying bags with their personal supplies. I watched them all depart, half wishing I was going on this mission with them and half excited that most of the department would be gone. I wanted to check on Granger and it would be best if I could do it without an audience.

Looking at my watch, I decided I'd give her an hour or two to get through her own work and then I'd check in on her.

* * *

While I was reading through all the notes from previous Aurors or interviewed patrons, I found a weird commonality. The illegal potions seemed to be sold mostly in the morning. How no one had spotted this bit of information and connected the dots before, I had no idea.

In addition to that, in a photograph of the building, I'd spotted several runes painted on the front of the shop. A lot of stores in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade had strange symbols painted on them, their meanings long forgotten, but these seemed to be fresh, and I had a feeling they were significant.

The DMLE just happened to have an employee who was nearly an expert in both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes…

Knowing that Hermione could help me, I rose from my chair and stretched. It was nearly midday and most of the remaining Aurors and support had already cleared out for lunch. I grabbed the photo and brought it with me so I had a legitimate reason to visit her office this time. If she felt like I was checking up on her too often, she would likely ask why, and I didn't have an answer for her.

Not one that I was willing to share, anyway.

As soon as I reached her door, I tapped lightly on the frame. Granger looked up, her dark eyes focusing on me. She put on a small smile.

"Malfoy. How are you today?" she asked politely.

"I'm doing well," I began. "How are you?"

The small talk seemed so ridiculous. I hated every second of it.

She shrugged. "I'm fine. I've been organising the final details for the Florence mission. I have to take care of the accommodations and all of that since Harry's assistant is useless when he's not in the office."

Laughing, I said, "How does she still have a job then?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," Granger replied, signing something and setting her quill down on her desk. "Did you need something?"

She was so blunt with me, and I wondered if she treated everyone that way.

"Actually, I do," I said, grateful that I'd found a reason to speak with her. "I've not looked at runes in quite some time, and I think there are some on the front of this apothecary that's under investigation."

She gestured for me to come closer and I took the opportunity to sit in the chair across from her. After sliding the photo across the desk, I sat back in the chair and watched her examine it.

Just like I remembered from Hogwarts, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed while she looked closely at the runes. She waved her hand over the photo and I saw the colors shift.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She looked up for a moment. "Enhancing the colors. I'm trying to see if two of these lines are connected or not. It's hard to tell since the lighting is so poor. I've developed a spell to help with it. Come around and look."

I stood and moved to the other side of her desk, leaning closer to examine the altered photo, but still keeping my distance from her to the best of my ability.

"See that?" Granger said, her voice quieter than it had been before. "I'm relatively sure that's the Arabic symbol for invisible, but if those two lines aren't actually touching, it could mean something completely different."

I let my eyes venture sideways, taking in her profile while she talked. There was a pink tinge to her cheeks, and I wondered when she'd started flushing.

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, I see what you mean. It's hard to tell."

Her hand waved over the photo again and it became the tiniest bit clearer, but I couldn't focus. I just kept looking at her.

"I can't tell," she stated. "Have you been to Diagon Alley to look at them in person?"

I shook my head. "No, I just noticed them this morning."

She angled her face towards mine the smallest amount. "I think you should go and take a look. There aren't many people who know you're working with the DMLE again, so you'd draw the least attention."

Another test in willpower. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't let myself look down at them like some sort of unsure, lovesick teenager.

"I could do that," I said, pulling back even more. "I could pick up some lunch from the Leaky while I'm there. Do you want anything? I'll… bring it back for you."

Granger's teeth sank into her lower lip. "Sure. That would be nice. Can you just tell Hannah that you need my usual? She'll know."

Nodding, I replied, "I can do that. I'll see you in an hour or so."

"If no one's paying attention to you, get new pictures with better lighting, for the love of Merlin," she ordered. "I don't know who took that one, but it's complete rubbish."

Standing and turning to face me, Granger stretched, her arms lifting into the air and her head tipping back and rolling from side to side. The hem of her dress rose up and I quickly averted my eyes, not wanting her to catch me ogling her legs. The hem fell above her knee when she wasn't stretching, so I'd caught a glimpse of her thighs…

"Malfoy?" she asked. "Why are you staring at the wall?"

"Oh, um, no reason," I replied, clearing my throat. "I was just… thinking. I wanted you to look at the runes, but I also came in here to talk to you."

Her pink cheeks started to lose their color. "About what?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay. Yesterday… you were upset. I wanted to check on you."

Waving her hand at me like it was no big deal, Granger said, "Really, I was fine. I don't know what got into me. I'd spent the past two nights at Harry's with James and Sev and they climbed into bed with us."

"Us?"

The word had escaped my lips without a thought.

Looking away, she reached for an empty coffee mug on her desk. "Blaise stayed there with me while Pansy was in the hospital. That's why I was out at the beginning of the week. I was taking care of the boys."

"Ah, I see. Practicing for when you have your own little Zabinis," I blurted, unable to stop the sickening jealousy that was hidden within my response.

She still hadn't looked back at me.

"I suppose you could say that," Granger answered. "Everyone seems to think that's what we were doing. It wasn't my intention, but—" A ringing sound cut her off and she picked some sort of Muggle device up off her desk. "Speaking of Blaise."

She flipped the device open and held it to her ear. "Hi. Did you all get into the hotel okay?"

I couldn't hear his reply, but she clearly could.

"That's good." Pause. "I'm fine." Pause. "I'm working, obviously. I'm going to have some lunch in a little bit." Pause. "I'm having someone pick it up from the Leaky for me. I'm sure Hannah will send over my usual order."

_Someone. Not Draco. Not even Malfoy. Just someone, like I wasn't even standing here to hear her conversation._

"—nothing to worry about, Blaise. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Granger waved her mug in the air and gestured to the door, not even speaking to me while Blaise was on the other end of that Muggle contraption. She mouthed 'see you later' and was on her way, leaving me standing dumbstruck in her office. As she'd walked out the door, I'd heard her voice deepen, like she was scolding him for something, but I hadn't been able to concentrate on the words. I'd watched the sway of her hips, the bounce of her curls, the flexing of her calf muscles in her heels.

I was lusting after her like I was sixteen bloody years old all over again.

With a sigh, I grabbed the photo and walked back to my desk, the jealousy churning my stomach once more. It was becoming apparent that I wanted Hermione Granger's attention whether I was married or not, whether Astoria curled her hair and fucked me six ways from Sunday every single night or not.

If I didn't have Scorpius to think about, I knew I'd be acting on these… urges. I wouldn't even be giving Blaise a second thought.

I'd be finding my way into her knickers and never letting go.

* * *

The trip to Diagon Alley and the Leaky had been fairly uneventful. As usual, Granger was right; no one had paid me any mind since I wasn't wearing my Auror robes or making a spectacle. I'd taken a few quick photos and moved on. When I'd asked for Hermione's 'usual' at the Leaky, Hannah had eyed me sceptically until I'd told her I was working in the DMLE again and had business in the area.

"How is Hermione?" she asked. "I've not seen her for a while and I'm starting to worry a bit."

Such a Hufflepuff.

I shrugged. "She seems fine. I've only been back to work a short time, and I don't really remember much from when I was working with her before. You'd do better asking Blaise."

Hannah smiled brightly. "Ah, yes! I was so excited when I'd heard he'd finally asked her out. That man has been in love with Hermione for years."

Perking up, I sat down at the bar and put a charming smile on my face. "Oh really? I thought it was fairly recent."

My dormant Slytherin traits kicked in. I was going to get information out of this little Puff.

Laughing, she shook her head. "Oh, I think he was sweet on her back in Hogwarts, if I'm honest about it."

"Who wasn't?" I asked, gesturing for her to continue.

Hannah hesitated for a moment, so I threw her a wink. "Ah, of course, I mean, even Neville was. He told me all about it when we first got together. But back to Blaise… Hermione used to come in here a lot a few years back — right after Harry married Pansy and started having kids — and Blaise would almost look after her."

"What do you mean?"

Again, she looked ambivalent about continuing. "Well, I probably shouldn't say this, but Hermione had a bit of a drinking problem then. I think she was mostly lonely." I watched as she ran a hand through her hair. "Anyway, men would start to approach her, and Blaise would basically tell them to fuck right off — that it wasn't okay for them to try to sidle up to a drunk witch. I'd have looked after her, of course, but Blaise was around more often than not."

"Really? Did he take her home then?"

Hannah shook her head. "No, never. I always kept her here. I usually keep a room or two open just in case someone needs to sleep it off. I don't want anyone to get splinched or harmed if they have one too many."

"Did Hermione know that he was watching her?" I asked.

With a laugh, she said, "You make it sound like he was stalking her! I don't think she knew, but he didn't really hide it. He was usually here with a few other blokes or occasionally a girl."

"Oh, so it was more of a coincidence that he was here."

With a shrug, Hannah replied, "Maybe. I can't be sure." She took a drink order from another customer and fulfilled it. "Do you want anything while you wait?"

"Working," I reminded her. "I don't think the Ministry would like me drinking firewhisky while I'm on the clock."

"Water? Or tea?" she asked.

"Thank you, but I'm fine."

She started to bustle away, but paused and looked over her shoulder. "It was good to see you, Malfoy. I'm glad things are getting back to normal for you and that you and Hermione are friends again."

Thinking about what she'd said, I tried to remember a single time that Granger and I had seen her or why she'd think we were friends.

Of course, I couldn't bring anything forth. But I knew now that _someone_ had considered us friends, and that meant others must have, too.

* * *

When I got back to the DMLE, I headed straight to Granger's office, hoping to show her the photos and talk about the case. I was also going to find a way to bring up what Hannah had said, both about Blaise and about our previous friendship.

However, she wasn't at her desk. The disappointment that flooded through me was expected, but still irritating. I set her food down and picked up her quill. She had a stack of tiny square papers on the corner of her desk and I reached for one. The whole lot of them came up, somehow stuck together. When I pulled the top sheet, it came free.

"Must be something Muggle," I mumbled, setting the stack back where she'd had it.

I wrote her a note, telling her that I had new photos to show her and would be at my desk when she was ready for them.

An hour later, a piece of paper folded into the shape of a bird landed on my desk. Picking it up, I examined it, impressed with how its tiny wings were still moving. The charm work was extraordinary — not that I'd expect anything less from Granger. I unfolded the blue paper carefully, not wanting to tear it.

_Malfoy, I'm ready when you are. Come and see me whenever you'd like._

Her words made my mind whir, thinking of other contexts they could be used in. I began wondering if I was like this before; had a single note from her made me go running? Did I always look for hidden meaning, or was that new? Honestly, I found myself looking for meaning in everything since the accident, always desperate to remember something from the past.

One thing was certain — any feelings I had before seemed ten times stronger now.

Looking at my watch, I resolved to wait five minutes. I didn't want to just immediately get up and run to her.

I examined the photos, narrowing my eyes at the same spot Granger had been looking at earlier. It was the strangest thing, but it seemed like it was angled slightly differently than it had been in the first photo.

Flipping through some of the others, I saw a pattern appear. If there was a person standing close to the runes, they shifted the slightest amount.

I forgot all about my plan to wait and jumped out of my seat, rushing to her office.

"I think they change," I began. "Look at these. If there is a person standing right in front of them, this little bit here looks like it moves."

Automatically, she held out her hand and I gave her the photos.

Brows drawn together in concentration, she said, "I think you're right. There's definitely something different about them. It's only that one line that shifts, so if you're just passing by, it wouldn't even be noticeable. You'd have to be looking for it."

"Interesting, right?"

Her head tilted back and she looked me in the eyes. "Definitely. We're going to have to send people out on a rotation to get more photos over the next couple of days."

I nodded. "Do you have any books in here that I could use for this?"

"Maybe…" she said, trailing off as she read over the titles. Reaching for one, she opened the front cover, scanning the title page before handing it to me. "If you want, you can set up in here. I don't like to loan my books out."

I laughed. "Oh, that's so shocking, Granger."

Narrowing her eyes at me, she replied, "Don't tease me, Draco. I've lost books when they've been borrowed."

Before I could point out that she'd called me Draco, her little Muggle device vibrated again. She looked down at it. "Oh, for Merlin's sake! I'm not a fucking child." Flipping it open, she said, "Hi, Blaise. What's going on?"

In order to avoid listening to their conversation, I walked out of her office, getting some supplies from my desk. I dragged it out as long as I could, arranging things as neatly as possible. When I walked back in, I noticed that her cheeks were red and she was furiously writing on a piece of parchment.

"Are you alright?" I asked tentatively.

She huffed. "I'm fine, though Blaise seems to think I can't survive a day on my own."

"Why would he think that?"

Again, she didn't look up or stop writing. "Because I had some issues last year. I guess it doesn't matter that I've made progress or that I don't fall apart like I did before—"

"Slow down. Look at me," I said, and her quill paused. "Come on, Granger. Is it a big deal that he's worried about you?"

"It is," she responded, making eye contact with me. "He should trust that I'm telling him the truth. I just spoke to him at lunchtime and he knows I'm at work."

As I tried to make sense of what she was saying, one question came to mind. "What kind of issues did you have?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said sharply. "Merlin, why do all men think it's their job to worry about me?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

A laugh escaped her. "It is. Please don't answer it." After a moment, she added, "And no more questions if you want to stay in here and use that book. I'll be fine once I finish writing all these notes out."

"Okay," I conceded. "But I'm going to give you one piece of advice."

"Oh, really?" she asked.

With a nod, I said, "Don't get angry with him. He doesn't mean to hover or smother you. He just loves you and wants to make sure you're okay."

"Are _you_ that way with Astoria?" I didn't respond right away and she looked down, continuing to make her notes. "That's what I thought. You trust her to take care of herself."

Running a hand through my hair, I sat down where she'd indicated. I didn't know if I _should_ say more, so I stayed silent. I opened the book, scanning the table of contents until I came to the listing for Arabic.

I looked through page upon page of runes, making lists of possibilities for the others around the door. Everything still seemed slightly off and I couldn't tell why. However, I didn't dare interrupt her.

On top of that, I was distracted by thoughts of Astoria and Granger's reaction to my lack of reaction. Why would she have given any thought to how I treat Astoria at all?

Eventually, Granger stopped writing and quietly said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you."

"I shouldn't have pried."

I could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, the skin on one side of her face stretching tight and then moving. She was feeling anxious — that much was obvious.

"I've only just realised," she began, sounding nervous, "because I wrote out the date on that note, your birthday was on Tuesday."

_How did she know exactly when my birthday was? Because we were friends before?_

"It was. I just spent the evening with Astoria, Scorpius, and my parents. It was uneventful," I replied. "Better than last year when I had an awkward dinner with Potter, Pansy, Blaise, and my family."

"Well, happy belated, then. I hope it's a wonderful year for you."

She didn't acknowledge my comment about last year; she just looked away.

Her awkwardness and my confusion filled the room. Granger bringing up my birthday shouldn't have been uncomfortable, especially now that I knew we were friends at one point, but it was. And it was obvious she felt it too.

I knew we couldn't just sit here in silence. I decided to move things along. "I have possibilities for the other runes, but nothing seems quite right. There's always something slightly off about them. I can't put my finger on it."

When I slid my notes across her desk, she smiled gratefully, likely happy that I was willing to change the subject.

"I agree. I think we're going to have a really hard time figuring this out until we have more data though," she said, flipping through the images and looking at the possible runes. "Or we're looking at a slightly different dialect. I'll send an owl to the new Hogwarts professor. Maybe there's something I don't know about Arabic runes…"

Smirking, I said, "Granger, did you just admit that there's something you don't know?"

Her head snapped up, her lips parted and ready to retort. When she saw the expression on my face, she relaxed and smiled at me. "I said _maybe_ , Malfoy. I didn't say that I don't know for sure."

Shocked that she'd read me so well, I decided to continue the banter. "Well, I suppose there must be at least one book you haven't read on runes somewhere in the world."

Chuckling, she replied, "It's entirely possible, though highly improbable."

She looked so much more gorgeous when she smiled.

* * *

"Well, I'm going to head home for the day," Granger said, starting to neaten up her desk. "We can pick this back up tomorrow. I'm hoping the runes look different in the morning."

Glancing at the clock on her wall, I realised it was already past seven.

"Fuck. I didn't know it was so late. Are you going to Floo or Apparate?"

As she packed up her handbag, she replied, "Floo. I'm going to mine since Blaise isn't home."

I chuckled. "It's not like I know where you live, Granger. I wouldn't know how you get there."

She looked flustered. "Right. Of course."

"I'll walk you to the Floo," I said, gesturing towards the door. "I really need to get home too. Astoria's going to be furious with me for being late."

Slowly, she forced a smile. "I'm sure she misses having you home all day."

"I'm sure she barely notices, to be honest. She spends a lot of time out of the house," I replied.

For just a moment, her big brown eyes looked the tiniest bit sad. She blinked and her expression changed, reverting back to the professional version of herself.

"Right. Well, I'm sure she's been waiting on you. Shall we?"

I stepped through the door first, allowing her to close it and ward it before matching my strides to hers. She moved towards the lift with purpose, her heels clicking when they hit the floor. The rhythm of her gait seemed familiar beside me, like I'd heard the sound of her heels clicking along a million times before.

When I turned my head to the side to look down at her, she was discreetly looking up at me, her eyes quickly looking away as soon as I noticed her. Then, when we reached the lift, she didn't extend a hand to push the call button even though she was closer, like she knew that I would be the one to do it.

After I'd pushed the button, she smiled and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I replied as the doors started to open. I gestured towards the lift. "Ladies first."

I kept my eyes trained on her left shoulder, not allowing myself to look down at her arse when she stepped in front of me. There were a lot of people in the lift, especially when I considered that it was after seven. Since there was no room, I found myself squeezing in behind Granger, her hair nearly touching my face.

When I took a deep breath through my nose, I was assaulted by a memory.

_Muggle London — a shopping district._

_Christmas decorations._

_A store that smelled like hundreds of different scents mixed together._

_A small box wrapped in some sort of film._

I must have made some sort of sound because she asked me if I was okay. I shook my head and she laid a hand on my arm.

Looking down at her, my mind started racing but found only gaps. I tried to refocus on what I'd seen before — the Muggle shop, the little box — but I got flashes of other things instead.

_A red dress._

_A rather large diamond necklace._

"Draco!" Her terrified voice broke through the fog and shut down the tiny flickers of memory I was having. She'd turned to face me and was looking up into my eyes. "Malfoy, are you okay?"

Again, I tried to breathe in through my nose and fell back into the gaps between my memories.

"Draco, you need to breathe! Breathe in through your mouth!"

Obeying her command, I took in a lungful of air. When everything came into focus, everyone in the lift was staring at me. My eyes looked down, meeting hers, and I saw something there. She was terrified. I needed to put her at ease.

"I'm fine," I lied. "I'm sorry. I just… there are too many people in here."

As soon as the doors opened, I pushed my way out, heading towards the Floo and leaving her behind.

"Draco!" she called, but I kept moving.

When I heard her heels clicking towards me again, I sped up, heading for the nearest empty Floo. I knew I couldn't go home right now, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"The Leaky Cauldron!"

I stepped through the Floo and out the door as quickly as possible. I was taking deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. I didn't know what had set me off, but my brain was firing in a way I hadn't felt before. I could _feel_ the missing memories. Connections were broken, but something had triggered this response in me.

What had I lost that my body so desperately wanted me to remember?

The London air flooded my nostrils — particularly pungent in the warm summer air — and I started to calm. It was well after seven, but the streets were still light. Keeping my head down, I walked and thought, concentrating on the slivers I could remember.

_Muggle shopping area. A store. Christmas decorations. The small film-wrapped box. A huge diamond necklace. A red dress._

I couldn't remember specifics, but I remembered those things. I tried to piece them together logically.

What was the most out of place?

_Christmas decorations. Those are seasonal._

Right, likely November or December. I was definitely in a Muggle area, and I knew they always decorated more than we did in the wizarding world.

Muggle shopping district. Christmas shopping? But for whom?

The dress, the diamond necklace… those things led me to think they were for Astoria, but I was certain I'd never seen her wear either of them, and she'd _want_ to show off a necklace like that at every opportunity.

Though we hadn't really been to many functions or events over the past year and a half…

Frustrated, I ducked into the nearest alleyway and leaned against the wall.

_Muggle shopping area. A store. Christmas decorations. The small film-wrapped box. A huge diamond necklace. A red dress._

My head was starting to hurt, but I needed to figure out what I was missing. I needed to figure out what had prompted the memory.

I'd been feeling an odd sense of déjà vu when Granger and I had been walking towards the lift, but it couldn't have been enough to cause this memory. Again, I thought about the way she waited for me to press the button, the way she seemed to know to step in ahead of me. I thought about her proximity and the way I'd forced myself not to look down at her arse.

I thought about the deep breath I'd taken through my nose, and it hit me like a rogue bludger.

I'd smelled something.

The store that contained all the different scents, the small box — it must have contained perfume or cologne.

Someone's scent had triggered the memory.

As soon as I'd realised it had been a scent that triggered the memory, it all came rushing back.

_I popped into the Apparition Point in Muggle London and started walking towards a large shop that reminded me somewhat of St. Mungo's. There were large glass windows in the front with mannequins dressed in winter clothing and Christmas decorations framing the pictured scenes. I moved swiftly and with confidence, like I had done this more than once before._

_When I entered the shop, I moved straight towards a large, brightly lit area. The scents were overwhelming but I seemed to know what I wanted. Reading all the labels, I paused when I came to a golden box, One Love stamped on the front. It was covered in a thin film, but I lifted it to my nose anyway._

_A second later, a Muggle woman approached me. "Do you want a sample? We have a tester right there." She lifted the bottle and sprayed it on a small square of thick paper. "Here. Is this what you're looking for?"_

_I brought the sample to my nose, inhaling deeply. A contented smile spread across my face. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm looking for. My wife will be so pleased. Thank you for your help."_

_With a wink, she said, "You're welcome. Let me know if I can help you with anything else."_

When I came back to myself, I was breathing heavily, barely holding myself up even though I was leaning against a wall.

Why had perfume affected me like that if it was only something I'd bought for Astoria?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And let the yelling commence! 
> 
> Reach out to me through comments, Facebook or Tumblr. I love hearing from all of you.


	24. 7th June 2007, continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did some rearranging, so we're going to see a little bit of Lucius this week and a little bit of Hermione. And next week, we'll get them both again. I didn't want to have two days from Lucius POV and then the same two days from Hermione jumping back.
> 
> Hope it works for all of you!

**Lucius — 7th June 2007**

* * *

It was well past seven in the evening when my office Floo rang, and I was shocked to see Hermione Granger's head in the grate.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to come through," she said, her voice panicked.

With a sigh, I replied, "Give me two minutes to adjust the wards."

If I was honest with myself, I had been waiting for a call like this ever since Draco had gone back to work. Something had gone wrong. My elaborate scheme had fallen to pieces.

When she stepped out, she was frantic, immediately starting to pace a path into my floor with her high heels. They were clicking at an alarmingly loud volume for such tiny shoes.

"I don't know what happened," she began, her words coming quicker than I'd ever heard. "But I was in the lift with Draco and out of nowhere he started making a sound like he couldn't breathe. I turned to face him and his eyes were unfocused, and then they closed. I couldn't get him to focus on me, no matter what I did. I even grabbed his arm."

"Where is he?" I asked.

There were tears filling her eyes. "Please, just let me finish. I need to get it all out. He looked at me and then he got even more confused. It hasn't happened until now, and we've been working together for a month. I don't know what was different, other than we were working on a case together today and spent a good amount of time in my office." Pausing, she sucked in a breath. "And then he said there were just too many people in the lift. As soon as the doors opened, he was gone."

"Where is my son?" I hissed.

She still had to look up at me, even with the added height. "I don't know. He ran for the Floo and I didn't hear his destination. I called you as soon as I could."

And even though I knew this wasn't her fault, I lashed out. "You stupid girl! How could you agree to work with him?!"

"Me? You're calling me stupid?" she spat. " _You_ are the one who didn't talk him out of coming back to work. _You_ are the one who forced me to Obliviate him in the first place! This whole plan was _yours_ and now that it's backfiring, you want to blame someone else."

Her words cut me, especially since I knew they were true.

"How do you know it's backfiring?" I asked. "He's not had any problems up to this point."

She halted and turned towards me, her eyes filled with tears. "Because I know him. I know when he's scared, or hurting, or confused. I know when he's happy and when he's just putting on a mask for the world."

"You _knew_ him. He's not the same as he was before," I replied.

Levelling a glare, she said, "I didn't change who he was. I just removed myself and tried to make him believe that he loved Astoria. He's still the same person under those lies. He's confused, and I don't know what happened, but he's going to start digging if he remembered something that doesn't fit."

"I thought that wasn't possible?"

"I don't know what triggered him in the lift, but there could've been something innocuous that he remembered," she began. "A normal lift ride in the Ministry wouldn't have been something that I removed. Only if he'd been touching me in some way."

Of course that made sense; she wouldn't have been able to erase every single time they'd seen each other without it being glaringly obvious what was missing. I started thinking about what could've prompted him to start remembering something.

Looking to Hermione, I asked, "Nothing stands out to you?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. We were examining some runes today for his case. He went to Diagon Alley. He picked up lunch at the Leaky since he was going to be there anyway. We worked in my office. He overheard a conversation between me and Blaise…"

"Did you say anything that he'd be able to dissect?"

"No, Blaise is just away in Italy, and he's been… overbearing. It's the first time he's had to leave for more than a day or so since Draco came back to work," she admitted. "He's worried that something will happen."

"And it has," I stated.

Wrapping her arms around her waist, Hermione said, "It really hasn't. Don't you think that he would've been furious with me if he'd remembered anything significant from our relationship?"

She was right, as usual.

"We need to find him. I'm going to Floo call Astoria."

She moved to the side, giving me a clear path to the fireplace. I stuck my head in and found myself in Draco's kitchen. Astoria rushed to the hearth.

"Is Draco home yet?"

"No, he's not," she responded, her voice full of alarm. "Why are you calling?"

"We might have a… problem," I began. "Draco was riding in the lift with a certain coworker of his—"

"What has that homewrecker done now?" Astoria interrupted.

I was glad Hermione wouldn't be able to hear the slight since my head was currently in Draco's fireplace.

"Nothing. She came straight to me as soon as she could," I answered. "He seems to have remembered something, though Ms. Granger is under the impression that it has nothing to do with her."

"How the fuck would she know?"

I huffed out a breath. "Astoria, just Floo call me when he gets home, please. We can discuss this at a time when there is no danger of being overheard."

With that, I pulled out of the fireplace and rose to my feet.

"He's not there, right?"

I nodded. "I've no clue where he's gone. You're sure he didn't say anything?"

Scoffing, she replied, "I'm fucking positive. Do you think I'd be here, of all places, if I had any idea what he'd remembered or where to find him?" It seemed her tears had morphed into rage, her words coming out unfiltered now. "For the love of Morgana, I never wanted to step foot in this… I can't even call it a house… again."

"It's technically a manor," I said casually. "But of course I understand that your memories of this place leave much to be desired."

"Lucius?" Narcissa's voice rang out and I could hear her approaching. "What's going on? Is there someone here?"

When she entered the room, her eyes automatically fell on Hermione.

"Ms. Granger, what are you doing here?"

The girl — woman — looked to me. "You can explain it. I'm going home."

"You need to help—"

"I do not need to help! In fact, that's the last fucking thing I need to do," she said, cutting me off. "This was your plan — your whole scheme. Sort it out on your own."

And then she was gone, stepping into the Floo and being whisked away.

Narcissa looked at me questioningly. "Explain, Lucius."

I walked her through everything Hermione had said, and she looked horrified.

With narrowed eyes, Narcissa stated, "So no one knows where my son is, and he's potentially having some kind of memory problem."

"That's about accurate," I replied, resigned since I knew there was nothing I could do. "We've no idea what he's remembering. I already Floo called Astoria. She's going to let me know when he's home."

Narcissa took Hermione's place, pacing along my office floor. Her shoes weren't nearly as loud, but the perpetual motion was the same.

"I need him to be okay," she murmured. "He needs to be okay."

Standing, I stepped into her path, wrapping my arms around her. "He's going to be fine. I'm sure he was just shaken and needed a few moments to himself. Draco's never been the type to share when something's bothering him."

She didn't reciprocate my embrace, and I felt my heart splinter. The last time she'd refused me affection was during the war, and I hadn't blamed her then; I'd been a pathetic excuse for a man.

"Lucius, I'm furious with you right now," she said, pulling away from me. "I thought this whole mess was behind us, and now he's been back at work for a month and it's already coming back to haunt us."

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it all back. There was nothing I could say or do. Waiting and watching, hoping and praying that Draco would go home… it bore a strange resemblance to the war.

Moving to the small wet bar I kept in my study, I looked to Narcissa. "Can I pour you a drink, darling?"

"You'd better," she replied, none of her usual warmth or playfulness in her tone.

Opening a rather expensive bottle of firewhisky, I poured us each a double. When I handed the glass to Narcissa, she took a much larger gulp than she normally would and then resumed her pacing. I settled into a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, waiting for Astoria to call back.

She didn't speak the entire time we waited, just paced and drank from her glass every so often, refilling it twice. I didn't dare try to stop her — I knew she would've hexed me into the following century.

Finally, after nearly an hour, Astoria's face appeared in the grate.

"He's here. He's fine," she said, putting Narcissa at ease. "He's going on about perfume, a red dress, and a Muggle shop. And something about a diamond necklace."

"That doesn't sound fine. Has he ever given you a diamond necklace?" Narcissa asked.

Astoria's eyes narrowed. Quietly, she demanded, "Figure it out, Lucius. We need that necklace."

I wasn't looking forward to contacting Hermione to find out if she knew what he was talking about.

When I nodded, Astoria popped out, leaving Narcissa and I on our own. She had her fingertips pressing into her eyes.

"Don't," she said when I moved to come to her side. "Really, Lucius. Just… don't."

I felt my insides twist, completely astounded that Narcissa would continue to push me away even after Draco was safe. Staring into the fire, I tried to find the right words to say.

_I'm sorry?_

_I didn't know he loved her when I did this?_

_I didn't think he'd ever go back to work?_

_I didn't think he'd try to get close to her again?_

_I don't want to try to hide this anymore?_

Nothing felt right, and I knew I was in the wrong. Just like with the war, Narcissa was entirely justified in her feelings — my actions had the potential to destroy our family.

If Draco found out — and it was honestly beginning to look more like a _when_ than an _if_ — I knew he would never forgive me. That would, in turn, put Narcissa in an impossible position. She loved me, but she loved our son more.

If there was a choice to be made, I would end up alone.

As uncomfortable silence filled the room around us, I got lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out the best course of action.

Would it be better to come clean to Draco now? Or try to cover it up?

After nearly an hour, Narcissa finally spoke.

"I'm very angry with you right now," she began. "I love you, and I know that you were trying to keep the family together, but I wish you'd have come to me instead of hatching this scheme with Astoria."

When I looked at her, I felt so ashamed of what I'd done. There were silent tears on her face, and she wasn't even attempting to hide them. My tongue was tied — I couldn't answer her. Honestly, there was nothing I could say or do to fix this, and I didn't think she wanted me to try to comfort her with silly platitudes.

Reading my expression, she continued her gentle scolding. "Lucius, every time I think that the past — whether it be the wars, the forced marriage, the Obliviation — is in the past, it just keeps coming back to haunt us, and I don't know how to handle it anymore. I'm at my wits end. I've never felt so miserable."

"What are you saying?" I asked, my pulse speeding up.

Wiping at her eyes, she replied, "I'm not really saying anything. I'm not a woman who speaks in riddles. You know that. I'm telling you how I feel."

"And I understand—"

She shook her head. "That's the thing, Lucius. You don't. You don't understand. You have never understood how your actions affect everyone around you. Or, if you do, you just don't care, and that's even worse."

My throat felt like it was swelling, and the edges of my vision blurred. Seeing Narcissa this upset and hearing her say I didn't care… it was something I'd never experienced before.

"And I could forgive you for getting mixed up with the Death Eaters. Hell, most of my cousins and my sister did. It was part of being a pureblood in that generation. Since I understood that, I even found it easy to forgive you for the second war." She paused and I looked up at her again. "What I'm struggling with are the choices you've made in regards to Draco. I'm sick to my stomach that I didn't make Hermione stop the process when I found out."

Interrupting, I said, "I told you it wasn't possible—"

"I know what you said. I'm not an idiot. Of course she could've stopped! She was at it for three days, and I found out on the first day!" she cried. "And now he's unhappy and confused and there's nothing I can do to help him without making him hate all of us."

"Narcissa—"

"And he's going to figure it out eventually, and we're going to lose him."

She was sobbing now, completely losing control of herself. Rather than continuing to sit and stare at her, I made my way across the room, pulling her into my arms. She tried to push me away, slapping at my chest, but I held onto her tight. When she finally dropped her face to my shoulder, I brought my hand to the back of her head, stroking her hair and trying to calm her.

"I'm sorry," I whispered against the top of her head. "I don't know how to fix this. I didn't realise — if I had known how much he loved her, I would've chosen differently. I'm so sorry."

As she cried against my shoulder, I held her, not knowing if I'd really be able to keep her by my side forever.

* * *

**Hermione — 7th June 2007**

* * *

After I'd left the Manor, I went straight home and immediately got into the shower, trying to wash away the feelings that were flooding through me.

Draco was remembering something.

There was no other explanation for what had happened in the lift. Something had triggered him, and he was remembering. The fear I felt was devouring me whole; the very thought of him realising what I'd done to him was making me physically ill and poking holes in the life I'd managed to create for myself since the beginning of the year.

As I stood under the hot water, I thought about the way he'd looked at me in the lift, the way he'd run from me. I imagined how he'd react if he really knew the truth. Knowing Draco — and I did understand him better than most — I was certain that he wouldn't run if he'd remembered or found out somehow. He'd confront me head on, not leaving me be until he got to the bottom of things. He wouldn't be able to let it go.

There was no way he remembered our relationship. I hadn't left anything there for him to find. I'd double and triple checked, making sure that I could only find younger versions of myself or appropriate workplace interactions.

There was nothing there. Nothing. He could barely remember that we'd even spoken at work.

A choking sob escaped my lips, even though I felt anything but sad. I was stressed. I was worried. I was second-guessing myself and my decisions more than I ever had before, but I was not sad.

I shouldn't have been crying.

But all of my traitorous emotions were rushing to the surface — everything I'd been feeling since the very first time I saw him in Diagon Alley resurfaced and spilled out. Jealousy. Grief. Relief. Anger. Anxiety. Depression. An overwhelming need to make myself feel better. No, not just _feel_ better, but _be_ better.

I had to be better. I had to move on. I had to show Astoria that she hadn't really won, hadn't broken me by taking Draco away.

More than anything, I found myself wishing I wasn't alone tonight. As mad as I'd been at Blaise today, I wished he was here to hold me, to take care of me. I knew it was selfish, but at that moment, I just couldn't be bothered to care. Blaise wouldn't have cared, either. He would've held me, let me cry, and been happy I wasn't hiding this from him.

Of course, I felt like the worst human being on the planet for wanting to take comfort from Blaise. He'd given me enough since this whole mess started. I didn't need to cry over Draco while Blaise held me. I'd been doing that for years. I was supposed to be happy now.

I was supposed to be happier because Blaise was mine, and mine alone.

_He was mine to lose._

And, if I carried on working with Draco, letting him get close to me, I likely _would_ lose Blaise.

For a few minutes, I leaned my forehead against the tiled wall, trying to sort through everything that was going on in my head. I was overthinking everything. Whatever Draco had remembered… it couldn't have been me. It couldn't have been anything to do with me. Even if he concentrated and looked his hardest, he would never find our relationship in his mind.

Knowing I needed to keep moving, I stood up straight and let the water splash over my face again, washing away the remnants of the tears I'd spilled. Robotically, I washed my hair and my body, finishing up my shower. I inhaled deep breaths of the steamy water, trying hard to steady myself. When I turned off the tap and reached for my towel, I was assaulted by a memory.

_There was a knock on my ajar office door, and without looking, I said, "Come in."_

_"Granger?"_

_That voice. His quiet tone. It was at odds, like he was scared to approach me. I looked up, not sure of why he was there at all._

_"Malfoy, how can I help you?"_

_Walking into my office, he closed the door quietly behind him. "We need to talk."_

_"We absolutely do not need to talk," I responded. "There is nothing for us to talk about."_

_He winced at my words, but he didn't leave my office. "Please. I really need—"_

_"You really need to get out," I told him._

_"Granger—"_

_"No!" I said, waving my hand and Silencing both the room and him. "Listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. What happened between us at the Leaky — it was a mistake. It won't happen again. You are married, we are co-workers. There is nothing else that needs to be said about it."_

_Gesturing to his lips, he nonverbally asked me to lift my charm. I debated refusing him, but I'd had my say. I couldn't very well let him go out into the department unable to speak. Against my better judgment, I lifted the spell._

_"I can't stop thinking about you," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have—"_

_"Don't," I interrupted. "Don't say it. Don't tell me any of this."_

_I turned away, not able to look him in the eyes._

_"I'm so sorry. I just — I need you to know that it meant a lot to me. More than you know."_

_When I heard the door handle rattle, I wanted to stop him, to tell him that I'd been thinking about him too, that no one had ever touched me the way he had. I wanted to say that I hated him and myself for giving into whatever urges we'd both kept buried the night before his wedding. We'd both known what he was doing the next day, and we'd just completely disregarded it._

_Instead, I let him walk out and then pointed my wand at the door, swinging it closed and making it latch._

_Closing the door on him._

I didn't know why I'd recalled that particular memory, but it felt like it had just happened yesterday.

Maybe my brain was trying to remind me that he'd done the same thing once before, cornering me in my office when no one was around. It was likely begging me not to make the same mistake over again.

When I wrapped myself in a towel and started drying my hair, I tried to put up walls, to practise Occlumency, but I finally understood what Harry had tried to explain to me so many times before. It wasn't simple. When you really, really needed it, it didn't always work the way you wanted it to.

I knew I should call Blaise; I needed to tell him what had happened. I should've wanted to tell him how I was feeling so he could help me sort it all out, but I just didn't. I didn't want him distracted from the mission, and I didn't want to explain that I had been working with Draco all day.

And even though I didn't want to tell him about any of this, I still knew I needed to, and I missed him, and that led to even more confusion.

As I got dressed, my eyes kept wandering to the trunk in the corner of the room. The one I'd considered opening in April. The one that was still taunting me now.

It would be so easy to fall back into things with Draco. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he still felt something, even though he didn't know about our past. Somehow, he still cared for me and wanted to make sure I was looked after.

I thought about what he'd said — his advice in regards to Blaise — _don't get angry with him. He doesn't mean to hover or smother you. He just loves you and wants to make sure you're okay._

Was he happy that I was with Blaise? That someone he had previously trusted was essentially caring for me when he couldn't?

How had he retained any feelings of protectiveness?

I grabbed my journal and started making a list of questions.

_Why does he care about me? He hasn't seen me in nearly two years, and he can't remember our relationship. At most, there should be a lingering crush or fascination. Nothing more._

_Why isn't he more concerned about Astoria? I did as much as I could to give them a strong relationship and it seems like he still doesn't care for her at all._

_Why did he decide he needed to come back to work in the first place? It would've been easier for him to stay at home._

_Why didn't Astoria and Lucius put up more of a fight? They're the ones who were concerned about what would happen if Draco and I were forced into close proximity again._

_What could he possibly be remembering?_

_What had triggered him?_

Deep down, I knew it had to be something I'd said or done that day. Why else would it have taken this long to happen? It didn't seem like a coincidence that his first memory burst would occur when I was standing that close to him in the lift. It couldn't have been.

And then I started wondering… Was it truly the first time he'd remembered something that he'd thought he lost? Or was I just assuming that?

Maybe there had been other things that no one knew about…

For the first time, I wished I had kept in contact with Astoria. I needed to know if Draco had ever had another episode like this, and she likely wouldn't have mentioned it to Lucius if he had.

I wanted to know where I had potentially gone wrong.

Rather than sitting at home alone, I packed an overnight bag and went over to Grimmauld Place. Harry's shocked expression when I stepped through his Floo was nearly comical.

"Hermione? Is everything okay?" he asked, wary.

I shook my head. "Blaise is away, and you're not there, and Draco—"

"He's been in your office, hasn't he?"

I nodded. "That isn't the problem, though," I began. "He's remembered something. I don't know what, but—"

"Let me get Pansy," he interrupted. "Let's go through it once rather than over and over again."

Taking a seat at the kitchen table, I buried my face in my hands. I wasn't sure if I was ready to deal with Pansy at the moment, but Harry was right — it would likely be easier to go through everything with both of them.

When they came back into the kitchen, Pansy handed the baby to me and said, "Snuggle her. It will help."

Lily was still just a tiny little thing — only four days old — and I obeyed, holding her close and rocking her.

"What happened, Hermione?" Harry asked.

I just started talking, relaying the information about the potioneer case, the runes, the afternoon spent in my office, his comments about Blaise, and finally the incident in the lift.

"You were close together in the lift?" Pansy asked thoughtfully.

Feeling my cheeks heat, I replied, "It was full. We were nearly pressed together."

"Have you touched since…" she trailed off.

Thinking back, I said, "No. I can't remember a single time when we've been close enough."

"Did he touch your skin?" Harry asked.

I tried to think back to earlier in the evening. "I don't remember, but—"

"Then he likely didn't," Pansy interjected. "I was wondering if his magic reacted to yours in some way."

"What do you mean?"

Exchanging a look, Harry and Pansy seemed to silently communicate. After a moment, he spoke. "If it's been awhile since we've had any prolonged skin-to-skin contact, there's a feeling… I'm not sure if it's stronger because of our marriage bond, but—"

"It's not," Pansy said. "Don't you remember when I tried to break up with you? We were apart for over a month and then you saw me in Diagon and grabbed my arm."

"Of course I do," he said. "I just didn't remember if it was as strong as it is now."

"What happened?" I asked.

"It felt so warm at first, and I thought it was just his body heat." With a smile, she continued the recollection. "But then it was like I'd been struck by lightning or something. There was this weird static and almost a shock."

Harry picked up where she left off. "And I couldn't let go of her. We both had goosebumps even though my hand on her arm felt like it was heating. I just pulled her into my arms and the relief was instant. I felt a rush of happiness."

"And he seemed to sort of glow. I don't know if other people could see it or not. They were staring, but we always got confused stares before we were married."

I thought back to texts I'd read throughout the years. This didn't sound like anything I'd ever come across.

Shrugging, I said, "I don't think we had contact like that. I grabbed his arm, but he was wearing long sleeves, and my hand was near his elbow."

"Strange," Pansy commented. "So what happened after the Ministry?"

Taking a deep breath, I replied, "I went to the Manor to let Lucius know. This shouldn't be possible."

Looking down at Lily's face, I continued to talk, telling them about my conversation with Lucius, how he'd called Astoria, and how Narcissa had come in at the end of it.

"Narcissa is going to murder him," Pansy stated. "Merlin, I don't know how she's managed to hold back thus far."

"It seemed like her goodwill towards him is really running out." I shifted the baby into the crook of my other arm. "I just don't even know how… And now I'm wondering if it's the first time or if it's just the first time any of us have witnessed it. What if he remembers other things?"

Harry finally jumped in. "Hermione, if he remembered anything about your relationship, he wouldn't be calmly sitting in your office looking at runes. You know it and I know it. He's still Malfoy. He'd be demanding answers and trying to get back into your knickers."

With a sad laugh, I said, "I really don't think that's going to be his reaction if he finds out. He's going to hate me, Harry. He's going to hate me, and I don't know how to handle that."

"We'll figure it out if it happens," he responded, and I let him think that I agreed.

Pansy, though she looked exhausted, was clearly pondering something. Her eyes wandered around the kitchen, jumped to Harry, moved to me, went back to the stairs.

"This might be crazy," she began, "but maybe it's not. You keep saying it shouldn't be possible and that's because you erased your whole relationship, right?"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Why else would I say that?"

"Don't be a bitch," she snapped. "Just listen. What if he's not remembering you, but things that surrounded you, or had to do with you?"

Not understanding, I asked her for examples.

"Okay, so say you Obliviated Harry from my life, pre-babies, all that. What if I'd gone to, let's say, Monaco with him previously? But I hadn't arrived in Monaco with him. We'd just met up there days later. You wouldn't have erased the memories leading up to his arrival in Monaco because he wasn't in them, right?"

Thinking back, I knew I'd erased all of our trips. Draco likely didn't remember he'd gone to any of the places we'd been together. "I think I made sure I took those days away too," I told her.

"Maybe a trip was a bad example. What if Harry and I had a favourite coffee shop? What if I went without him sometimes, but there was still something nagging at me whenever I walked through the door? I didn't know why, but it felt all wrong. And then one day, I hear something or smell something and it prompts a vague thought about buying a coffee for someone else, but I don't necessarily know who I want to buy it for. I just know that I want to buy it and I remember that I've bought it before."

My jaw dropped. It made a strange kind of sense.

Pansy had just given me something entirely new to consider and worry about.

Those little connections could unravel everything.

"That's not crazy at all," I admitted. "It's definitely plausible, and it's something that I never thought about."

Looking me square in the eyes, Harry said, "If you don't stay away from him, he's going to figure it out, Hermione. I think Pansy's right. The little things will start to add up and, while he might not understand it, he'll eventually realise that everything he can't remember is connected to you in some way."

"I know. I'll figure it out," I replied, determined. "He wasn't ever supposed to come back to work. I didn't even…"

Lily started fussing in my arms, prompting Pansy to stand and reach for her. "I'm going to feed her and then put her down. You two keep talking. I'll be back."

After Pansy left the room, Harry started to speak again, but I shook my head, cutting him off. "No. I don't want to talk about it any more tonight. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Have you spoken to Blaise?" he asked.

"No. We had a bit of an argument earlier, and I've not called him. I'm not going to call him tonight," I stated, even though I knew I was being a selfish bitch.

When the silence stretched between us, Harry rose, coming around to my side of the table. He sat beside me and grabbed both of my hands. "Look at me, Hermione." I raised my head. "I know things with Malfoy are going downhill, but you can't push Blaise away like he doesn't matter to you. You'll regret it if you do."

"That's not what I'm doing," I began. "He called me seven times after he left for Italy today. Seven. He wanted to make sure I was okay, that I'd eaten lunch, that I was still okay, that no one was bothering me. Every single call was essentially code for 'Is Draco sniffing around?' If he was so worried about Draco being around me, he shouldn't have excluded him from the Italy trip solely because he's a jealous prat!"

Harry shrugged. "You have a point, but I also understand _why_ he's jealous of Draco. You really loved him, and Blaise stood by and watched—"

"He knew all those things going into this relationship. If he keeps taking things out on Draco, isn't that suspicious as well?"

Releasing one of my hands, Harry pushed his hair back off his forehead. "Of course it is, but he's not thinking about it that way. He's thinking the woman that he loves is now in close quarters with the man that she was in love with previously. And it's pretty obvious that Draco still wants to be around you whenever he can."

"That's not my fault!" I exclaimed. "I couldn't go all the way back and take everything!"

Again, Harry rose, but this time, he pulled me to my feet and hugged me close. "I know, Hermione. None of this is your fault. Not really. I'll speak to Blaise and let him know that he needs to let it go. Malfoy's back, and I'm not going to tell him he can't work with us. But you need to talk to Blaise, too."

"I will. I just can't tonight. It's all been a lot," I replied, my voice cracking.

I'd gone from angry to nearly weeping incredibly fast; my mood was still all over the place.

"Have you spoken to Penelope yet?" he asked.

I shook my head against his shoulder. "No. I had to reschedule and she was on an extended holiday."

"Stay with us? Just while Blaise is away?"

Sighing, I said, "You don't have to worry, Harry. I'm not at that point. I was going to ask to stay tonight—"

"You should. And you're not leaving until Blaise comes home," he ordered. "I'm not letting you sit alone in that house and stew over this."

"Fine," I conceded. "But if James sneaks into my bed, I'm not kicking him out."

Harry laughed. "That's fine. He's already told us about how he stayed with you and Uncle Blaise."

"Traitor," I muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I'm overwhelmed by the response to this story. Your comments are always so thoughtful and I love that this story seems to make you all think and theorize. It's so much fun.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading.


	25. 8th June 2007

**Lucius — 8th June 2007**

* * *

On Friday morning, I found myself walking through the Ministry. It was the absolute last place I wanted to be, but I figured I could check in on Draco and make it seem as casual as possible.

When I entered the DMLE, heads turned towards me in surprise. Of course, everyone knew who I was and what I'd done during the war. My misdeeds had been made very public during my trial, and I'd never come here to see Draco before.

"Good morning," I said, breaking their shocked silence. "I'm here to see my son. I believe you may know who he is."

One of the older Aurors scoffed and gestured towards an office. I didn't have to look at the nameplate on the door to know who it belonged to; Harry Potter was on paternity leave, and I couldn't think of a single other person Draco would talk to.

Standing just outside of the doorway, I looked in and saw both Hermione and Draco leaning down, closely examining photos. They were on opposite sides of the desk and exchanged their images, talking quickly.

As I watched them, even just for a few seconds, I saw their natural chemistry, the way they just seemed to _fit_. They were perfect together, equally matched in intelligence and able to keep pace with each other. Even if Draco didn't remember their relationship, his body was attuned to hers, moving nearly in tandem.

It made me feel even more guilty.

"I think I was right about the Arabic, and there's definitely something here about invisibility," Hermione said. "But I also think you were right — everything is just slightly off, and we need to figure out why."

He looked up and, though I couldn't see his face, I knew he would be smirking at her. "Oh, I love hearing you say I'm right, Granger."

Her head snapped up, but before she could respond, she noticed me. Her eyes widened and her lips stayed slightly parted, the ghost of the unspoken words between them.

Seeing the shocked expression on her face, Draco spun around and met my gaze. "Father? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"I actually came to ask you the same thing," I replied smoothly, gathering my composure. "I got a rather frantic Floo call from your wife last night when you weren't home by eight."

He turned back to Hermione. "Excuse me for a moment, Granger. I'm going to have a word with my father."

"Of c-course," she said, the slight stammer in her voice betraying her nerves.

"Granger, he's not going to do anything to you. He's changed and we're in the middle of the DMLE," he stated, mistaking her expression for one of fear.

The way he'd politely excused himself, the way he reassured her… It showed the level of care he had for her. After all we'd done to erase the past, it lingered in the air of her office. I could imagine them working together, sharing private glances and little smiles. They would be happy.

They _could've been_ happy, if not for my actions.

She forced a smile. "Of course I know that, Draco. I was just… surprised."

I was surprised she'd so easily agreed, saying that I'd changed when she knew better than anyone that I really hadn't. Ultimately, I had resorted to my old ways to scare her into the Obliviation. She probably thought I'd hurt her or her parents if she didn't toe the line and continue the charade.

His eyes lingered on her, like he was making sure she was truly okay. When she resumed her examination of the photos, he rose and walked over to me. "Let's take a walk, Father."

Gesturing for him to take the lead, I waited until he'd turned away to send the small note I'd brought with me into her office. She quickly summoned the scroll, making it zoom into her palm.

Her wordless, wandless magic was strong, even when she was visibly shaken.

I followed Draco out into the DMLE and into a vacant conference room. He closed the door and cast a _Muffliato_.

"What happened yesterday?" I asked. "Astoria called us to say you hadn't come home and then told us you were quite confused when you got there."

He ran a hand through his overly long fringe, pushing it back off his face. "I remembered something strange when I smelled someone's perfume in the lift," he explained. "I can't even tell you where the scent was coming from, but I remembered buying perfume, and a red dress, and a diamond necklace. A big one."

"Oh? It doesn't sound overly important or specific," I said, trying to downplay it.

Narrowing his eyes, Draco added, "It was in a Muggle shop. I know I went into Muggle areas for work, but this certainly wasn't anything to do with work. The perfume was very specific, and I said it was for my wife, but I looked through all of Astoria's things this morning… It wasn't there."

"Maybe she's finished it?"

He shook his head. "I've not smelled that scent on her before. It has to be the same one I smelled in the lift."

I shrugged. "Not necessarily, Draco. So many perfumes have similar base notes. Maybe the memory was triggered by something else."

"It happened when I breathed in through my nose."

"Did you ask Astoria about the necklace?" I redirected.

He groaned. "I did. She went on about how it's in the vault because it was so expensive. She told me she'll get it next time she's in Diagon Alley."

"Makes sense. At least you know where it is."

I watched as he paced — a habit he'd clearly picked up from Narcissa — and repeatedly ran his fingers through his hair.

"But do I?" he asked. "She really seemed upset when I asked her about it. I saw the perfume, a red dress, and that bloody necklace. She claimed she didn't have any of them in the house."

_Oh, for Salazar's sake! She couldn't transfigure a dress red?!_

"I'm sure the necklace is safer in the vaults," I said, trying to deflect his attention. "I still think it's possible she's finished the perfume."

Letting out a sigh, he said, "I don't know. I hate this bloody injury. I hate my own mind. I don't fully trust my own thoughts or memories, and Astoria always seems… off. I can't explain it."

"How long have you felt this way?" I asked, scanning his face for a reaction.

Draco looked me straight in the eyes — and it was like looking into my own eyes nearly twenty-five years ago — and said, "Since I woke up. She's felt off the whole time, and I just… I feel like I can't trust the things she tells me sometimes."

From his tone and his expression, I could tell that he was being honest with me. I sat in one of the uncomfortable office chairs and gestured for him to do the same. Shaking his head, he started to pace again. "I just don't know, Father. And then things with Blaise are off, and I can't put my finger on that, either. All the parts of my life that should make sense don't."

"I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself right now. You and Astoria had an arranged marriage. I'm fairly certain that the two of you never really figured things out before she got pregnant with Scorpius, and you can't really remember much of your life together. You've openly said that." I took a deep breath. "And Blaise… well, people grow apart as they get older. It's not unusual, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"But it makes no fucking sense!" he shouted. "I want to know where those things are, and I want to know why it's just certain things from after I married Astoria that I can't fucking remember!"

The confession was on my lips, begging to be set free. If I told him now, he might forgive me. He'd be upset, but at least I'd have told him of my own freewill. I could apologise and he would understand eventually. Knowing how important traditions and fidelity were in the Malfoy line, he would come around.

But the little voice in the back of my head, the one that told me Draco still hadn't forgiven me for the war, started whispering to me, as well.

_He'll never believe that you had good intentions. He doesn't care about Astoria. He was in love with Hermione Granger, the way you're in love with Narcissa, and you stole that away from him. What would you do if someone had Obliviated your love for Narcissa? What if you could feel that it was missing, but didn't know precisely what it was?_

"Draco, you need to calm down," I soothed. "I don't know why it's only certain things and from that time period. The Healers said they couldn't figure it out, either."

He was still distressed.

"Honestly, the only thing that feels right in this life, other than Scorpius, is being here — back at work," he admitted. "This place feels more like home than my own bloody house or the Manor."

"Well, you did spend a rather large amount of time here before your accident," I said, trying to placate him. "Astoria often said you didn't get home until late in the evening, even when you'd go into the office early."

"I'm sure that's the case, but I can't remember it. And she got upset because I got home later than she thought I would on my first day back, and that just couldn't be helped! I was filling out paperwork and trying to get in to see Potter whenever I could," Draco ranted.

_Of course she did. She's paranoid that you're spending time with Hermione, and you are. Even if you're just working, you're back in her orbit, and Astoria knows that you're likely to fall for her all over again._

"I'm sure she'll get accustomed to you working again—"

"That's not the point!" he shouted. "She doesn't fucking trust me and I don't have any idea why! You know she fought me about coming back to work, and now if I'm five minutes late, she gets in a mood and will barely speak to me."

"Perhaps you should talk to her about this?" I suggested, prompting him to gape at me.

Draco's mouth snapped shut. "I can't! Anytime I want to have a real conversation, she shuts down!"

"Are you — Is the physical part of your relationship still...?"

Looking away, he said, "She's overcompensating there, actually. She lashes out and then... apologises. Let's not talk about it. It's weird."

"There is nothing wrong with discussing these kinds of things," I replied, trying to put him at ease.

He laughed. "You're my father. Everything about this conversation is wrong." The silence stretched on between us. "I just don't know what to do, and I hate that I can't seem to make sense of anything."

I didn't know what to say. "Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. You're clearly struggling right now."

Shaking his head, he replied, "I need to come by the Manor and get some more books on runes. Granger and I have exhausted what she has in her office trying to figure this case out, and I know we've got more. I don't want to take time off when I've just come back to work."

"Alright," I said, getting to my feet. "What runes are you looking into? I'm sure we have some resources in the library. I can find a few things for you to start with since I'm not going into the office today."

"Arabic. Anything about altering runes systematically. Codes that were built with runes."

I nodded. "Easy enough. Why don't you come back to the Manor and we'll search together? Your mother was frantic last night and would likely feel better if she saw you."

"I'll do that. Let me pop home and tell Astoria know where I'll be. Thank you, Father."

"Not a problem."

_It's honestly the least I can do._

As I walked back through the Ministry, I thought about Draco — his distress, the way he seemed to know something was wrong, how Astoria seemed to be trying to distract him with sex, how seamlessly he and Hermione had worked together, the way his concern for her had broken through.

I'd known I'd made a mistake for well over a year, but what I'd just seen really drove the point home for me. And I'd lied again, continuing this farce and trivialising the way he felt. With every lie and every day that passed without me admitting what I'd done, I knew I was further damaging my relationship with him.

And Narcissa's. And Hermione's. And Astoria's. And Blaise's.

But at this point, I didn't know how to stop trying to cover it all up, to keep Draco from finding out about the past.

* * *

**Hermione — 8th June 2007**

* * *

I'd never been more shocked than when Lucius Malfoy had turned up in the DMLE. He hadn't even come here for questioning when he'd been giving information on the other Death Eaters. He'd made the Aurors go to Malfoy Manor and play on his turf.

As he and Draco walked away, I wondered why Lucius had decided to visit. It seemed like the worst idea he'd ever had, and that was really saying something.

I waited exactly three minutes and then I opened the note he'd sent flying at me.

_Ms. Granger,_

_You need to change your perfume if it's still the same. If you're wearing any now, I'd suggest trying to remove it before Draco gets back to the office. That is what triggered his memory._

_Please come by the Manor at your earliest convenience so we can discuss matters further._

_LM_

My perfume. Draco could still remember the smell of my perfume, but he didn't know why or who the scent belonged to. Recalling the note that he'd given me with the bottle — _I will forever associate this scent with you. Whenever you pass me in the office, I can smell it and it makes me long to nuzzle my face against your neck, to run my tongue along your throat and taste you_ — it seemed so fucking obvious.

Scent was one the most powerful forces when it came to a person's memory, and there had been no way for me to erase it. Something so subjective wasn't really a memory that could be taken away. There was no visual prompt to go along with it.

I wondered what memories the scent had brought forward and why he had seemed so distressed.

Standing from my desk, I made my way to the washroom, scrubbing at the skin of my neck and my wrists. A small trace of the scent lingered on my blouse, so I stepped into one of the stalls, removed it, and cast a _Scourgify_ over it, eliminating all scents.

I'd been wearing the same perfume for years, and now I'd need to find something new.

With a sigh, I headed back into my office, my mind completely focused on what Draco might have remembered from something as silly as a sniff of my perfume in the lift.

* * *

Draco never returned to my office, though he'd also sent me a note, telling me he'd be combing the library at Malfoy Manor for books on Arabic runes.

That night, when I left the Ministry, I went back to my house again. I hadn't heard from Blaise today, but that was unsurprising — I'd told him off for being a bother the previous day. I called him and he seemed relieved to hear my voice.

"Tesoro, are you still cross with me?" he asked, his voice straining. "Please don't be. This is hard for me."

"I know," I responded. "I know it's hard. It's hard for me to be there on my own, too. I miss having you around."

"But you don't want me to call you."

I sighed. "It just makes me feel like you don't trust me, like there's still something wrong with me even though I've made so much progress."

"Hermione, I do trust you. I don't trust _him_ to stay away from you," Blaise explained.

I picked up a quill and started twirling it between my fingers. Swallowing my pride, I confessed. "Well, you were right. He came to my office and asked me to help him with a case—"

He groaned, interrupting me. "When?"

"Yesterday. I need to tell you what's been going on, Blaise. I didn't want to talk about it over the phone, but I feel like I'm lying to you by not telling you."

I relayed the story about the lift, Draco's behaviour, my trip to the Manor, how I'd stayed at Grimmauld Place because I didn't want to be alone, and Lucius' visit to the Ministry. Blaise remained silent for most of it, interjecting only to ask questions to clarify from time to time. I was completely honest with him, not leaving any detail out.

When I finally stopped speaking, he said, "I'm glad that you told me. I wish you'd said something last night, but this is progress, especially since you went to Harry and Pansy instead of trying to deal with it all on your own."

"I'm trying," I murmured, rubbing my eyes with my free hand. "I don't want to be a mess. I don't want to get sucked back into everything with him. I really don't."

Blaise cleared his throat. "Don't take this the wrong way, Hermione, but I'm not going to let you get sucked back in. Draco needs to just focus on his family and his own life."

"I'm going to see Lucius to get the rest of the details about what Draco remembered when I hang up with you. I'd really like to know what he saw."

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" he asked, and I could tell he was worried about something more. "I know that Lucius is acting like he wants to help, but I don't think you can trust him."

"I have to know what Draco remembers so that I can avoid triggering him again," I replied. "I've already moved that particular perfume to the trunk with all of Draco's memories. I need to know if anything else needs to go in there."

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Okay. I understand, and it makes sense. Just be careful with him please."

"I'm always careful," I said, infusing an innocent tone into my voice.

He laughed. "You're never careful, Tesoro. It's one of the things I both love and hate about you."

"You're quite the charmer, Mr. Zabini," I teased. "I do hope you're holed up in your hotel room and not out on the town."

"I can assure you that I am, indeed, in my hotel room. I've not really left the hotel at all today," he answered.

I hummed. "Well, that's good. I don't want you charming the knickers off of some Italian witch."

"The only knickers I want to get into are yours, love. No need to worry about that."

A devious thought crossed my mind. "Well, maybe when you get home, I'll be wearing nothing but knickers."

Groaning, Blaise said, "I can only hope." After a pause, he added, "Can I assume you'll be in my bed Sunday night, then?"

"I think that can be arranged," I began. "Listen, I hate to do this, but I have to go. It's getting late and I still need to see Lucius."

"Let me know that you're home safely," he stated.

After agreeing, I disconnected and stared at my Floo. I rang the Manor, praying that Draco had already gone home, and Lucius told me to come through, much like he had the night before.

When I stepped out, Narcissa was also there, though she didn't look like herself. I could see the strain and sadness on her face. It seemed she'd run out of energy to keep up pretenses.

"Ms. Granger," Lucius greeted. "Please feel free to take a seat."

I chose a chair close to Narcissa. "Mrs. Malfoy," I said quietly as I sat. "I'm so sorry. I never thought—"

"It's not _your_ fault, Hermione. It's not something I ever would've thought of," she said, trying to reassure me.

Lucius was watching us carefully, his grey eyes bouncing back and forth. When I turned to face him, I asked, "So what did he remember?"

"He remembers Christmas shopping. Specifically, he remembers buying the perfume, a red dress, and a diamond necklace. A rather large, expensive diamond necklace."

My stomach clenched. While I'd removed the gifts from his memory, I hadn't removed the experience of shopping for the gifts. Of course he'd remember going to Muggle London and getting me Muggle things. It would be foreign to him now. The memories would stand out like a unicorn in a herd of horses.

"I've taken the perfume off my counter so I don't accidentally use it and the red dress is at the back of my closet. I haven't worn it since," I explained. "As for the necklace, I have it at home. Again, I don't wear it out. It's much too much for everyday."

Lucius' face displayed something like regret. Before he even spoke, I knew what was coming. "We're going to need the necklace."

Immediately, I thought of the red Cartier box nested into the back of the trunk, hidden by the letters and notes and journals. Remembering how I'd first found the necklace — attached to the hanger with the dress — and the way it sparkled, I felt my stomach twist.

_"This is far too much," I stated, gesturing to the necklace in the mirror. "You need to take it back."_

_Smiling, he said, "It's perfect. It's simple and showy at the same time."_

_With a laugh, I replied, "I'm not showy."_

_Draco pulled me closer, his lips finding my ear. "You are," he murmured. "You just don't try to be showy. It's natural, and that makes it so much better."_

_He kissed my neck—_

"Hermione?" Narcissa said. "Are you okay, dear?"

When I snapped out of it, I realised my hand was resting on my throat and I was breathing heavier than normal. I met Narcissa's eyes. "I'm… fine. Just, well, remembering."

Sympathy and regret. Shared looks of sadness. Pity.

Our actions were coming back to haunt us, but I wouldn't be the one to take all of the blame for this situation.

And I wouldn't let them take away my tangible memories of Draco, the few things I'd kept for myself when I let him go.

"I won't give you the necklace," I stated, and when Lucius' lips parted to speak, I held up my hand. "I'll duplicate it. I've been using _Gemino_ since I was a teenager. It's a Muggle necklace, so you don't have to worry about him looking for signs that it was goblin-made."

He looked like he wanted to argue with me, but Narcissa spoke first. "That would be fine. I can understand your reluctance to part with a memento like that."

Forcing a smile, I stood. "Right, well, unless there's anything else you can think of…"

Lucius also rose, gesturing towards the Floo. "You'll owl it to us? Or shall I meet you somewhere?"

"I'll send it via Floo as soon as I get home, so keep the connection open," I responded, stepping into the grate.

"Goodbye, Hermione," Narcissa said, not looking up at me as I departed.

I stepped out into my sitting room. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I walked up the stairs and into my bedroom, kneeling in front of the trunk. I unlatched it and shifted things aside, my eyes focused on the red box.

When I opened it, the necklace sparkled up at me, taunting me, reminding me. The tears I'd held back at the Manor filled my eyes as the memory continued.

_He kissed my neck, his lips tracing the delicate chain as we made eye contact in the mirror._

_"I want to strip you down so you're wearing nothing but this for me," he whispered. "I want you on top of me, riding me, wearing it."_

_I moaned at his words, at his lips on my pulse point._

_"What are you waiting for?" I breathed, the words quiet._

_"I have no idea," he replied, lifting me and carrying me to the bed._

I looked over at my bed — still the same one — and I could picture him there, stretched out, waiting for me to climb on top of him.

Hesitating for just a moment, I let the grief wash over me again. It was never easy for me to think about Draco and what I'd lost, but today felt somehow worse. I'd had certain things — memories, items, feelings — that were only mine, and those little things were my last remaining ties to the past.

The perfume I'd worn for years?

Gone.

The necklace he'd bought me?

It would be shared with Lucius, with Astoria.

The red dress I loved?

Forever banished to the back of my closet. Although I hadn't pulled it out in over a year, the fact that I couldn't wear it now, even if I wanted to, bothered me.

And the memories of these gifts had now been diluted, broadcasted to all the Malfoys, and I knew I'd also have to explain it all to Harry and Pansy and eventually Blaise. My feelings would, without a doubt, be on display for all to see.

Little pieces of me were still being chipped away nearly two years later.

Things were getting messy, complicated, almost too much to handle. And I thought there might be a chance that Draco would figure it all out.

If he did, he'd hate me. He'd never look at me the same way again.

Taking the necklace out, I reached for my wand, touching the tip of it to the pendant. " _Gemino_ ," I murmured, creating a copy from thin air.

I tucked the original away, back in its box, back in the trunk, and latched it shut. Carrying the replica to my desk, I slipped it into an envelope, sealed it, and made my way back to the Floo, sending it over to the Manor. I didn't attach a note; there was no point.

After that, I forced myself to text Blaise, letting him know I was back from the Manor safely and heading to Grimmauld. With a sigh, I followed through with what I'd told him, even though I knew I'd have to rehash the whole day to Harry and Pansy.

I just knew I couldn't be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for following along. I loved reading through the conversations some of you were having last week!
> 
> Next week will center around Hermione again, then we'll finally be back to Draco and Astoria.
> 
> _Edit: I've also posted a short snippet of Blaise's POV on my Tumblr. I'm writing more, but it will not post until I've aligned it with something down the road in this story._


	26. Hermione, 9-10th June 2007

On Saturday afternoon, Harry and I were in the sitting room with James and Sev. I was chasing them around and snatching them up whenever I could, tickling them and kissing their little faces. They were screeching and giggling, the happy sounds helping to lift my mood. Harry was laughing and joining in, though the boys seemed to be focusing most of their attention on me.

Pansy stormed down the stairs and glared at us. "Did you two happen to forget that there is a brand new baby in this fu—effing house?!" Our heads snapped up, looking at her. "I guess you did. Well, at the very least you could cast a Silencing Charm!"

"I'm sorry, dear," Harry said in a mocking voice, making me wince.

In a matter of seconds, Pansy's face reddened and sparks flew from her fingertips. "Oh, you think this is a joke?" she fumed. "How about this, Potter? Why don't you and Granger take the boys for—" she paused for dramatic effect "—ice cream! And then to play at the park!"

James and Sev immediately started clapping their little hands with glee. "Yes! Yes! Auntie Mi, you come with us!" James said, turning his sweetest expression on me.

Grinning at Pansy, Harry replied, "That sounds like fun. I don't know why you thought I'd mind going to Fortescue's and to the park."

"It's you and Hermione. You're going to be stalked by everyone in Diagon Alley," she stated. "You're going to be miserable, and I can't wait."

Harry walked up to his wife and hugged her. As she struggled against him, he just held her tighter and kissed her cheek. Although Harry couldn't see her, she was smiling, and I was jealous. They made it all look so easy.

"We'll be fine. You know the kids deter some people," I chimed in, picking Sev up. "We're usually left alone with these little human shields."

"Shall I bring something home for you, dear?" Harry taunted. "Maybe some of that chocolate chili shite you love?"

"It's fu—effing delicious and I won't hear another word about it," Pansy said, finally freeing herself from Harry's clutches and moving towards the door. "And yes, you'll bring some home for me if you know what's good for you."

Harry laughed and looked down at the boys. "Shall we go then? Ice cream and park?"

"Sceam!" Sev chirped, clapping again.

I felt a tug on the bottom of my t-shirt. James was looking up at me. "Can we swing at the park?"

"Of course, love," I replied. "Let's get some ice cream and then we'll go swing."

Harry took hold of his eldest son's hand and I carried Sev, knowing that it could be dangerous to put him down for Floo travel.

When we stepped out into the Leaky, there were stares, but no one approached us. I was thankful for that — I just wanted to have a pleasant afternoon with Harry and the boys. After the week we'd all had, between Lily's arrival and Draco's sudden remembrances, we needed to relax.

"Mimi!" Sev said, drawing my attention. "Sceam!"

Shifting him to my other hip, I tickled his thigh. "Yes, we're going to get ice cream!" His little giggles made me feel lighter. "I'm very excited, too!"

I noticed Harry watching me from the corner of his eye. Honestly, I thought he might be more wistful about me becoming a mother than I was. While I understood he was worried that I'd never fulfill my dream of being a parent, I was only twenty-seven. My uterus would more than likely be in working order for a few years to come.

As we walked to the ice cream parlour, James and Sev both babbled, and I tried to keep up with their little conversations. Sev wasn't talking a lot yet, but the odd recognisable word or phrase made it past his tiny lips. I loved watching both of them grow and learn.

"Auntie Mi, what kind are you getting?" James asked.

Automatically, I replied, "Chocolate raspberry. What about you?"

"Stawbewy."

When I realised he'd dropped the 'r', I laughed. "Well, you can try some of mine if you'd like."

Ordering took longer than it should've — Harry was indecisive and he had to order for the boys. When I looked in the case, I saw strawberry peanut butter. That had been my favourite at one time, and then Draco had introduced me to chocolate raspberry and I liked it better.

I couldn't believe that something as simple as an ice cream flavour still made me think of him. Though, he was in the forefront of my mind after the week's events.

After settling the bill, we went to the most secluded table we could find, hoping to stay out of the public eye as long as possible. It was a Saturday in June in Diagon Alley — ice cream was quite popular.

Sev was perched on my lap, making a mess of both himself and me as he attempted to eat his chocolate ice cream. Harry had conjured a booster seat for James so he could sit on his own and reach the table. I was surrounded by Potter men on all sides.

"Slow down, James," Harry scolded. "You'll end up with a headache if you eat ice cream that fast!"

I looked longingly at my own untouched dish of ice cream as I helped Sev take small spoonfuls of his. The damage had already been done, though — he was coated in a sticky, chocolate mess. I heard a familiar chuckle coming from the ordering line.

As soon as I looked up, I was met with two platinum blond heads — Draco was holding Scorpius and he waved to us. My stomach flipped at the sight of them and I found myself waiting for Astoria to appear, but she never did. Forcing a smile, I waved the hand holding my spoon.

Under his breath, Harry muttered, "Why is he suddenly everywhere?"

Turning to meet his eyes, I said, "I've no idea."

"Do you want to leave?" he asked. "We don't have to interact with him outside of work."

I shook my head. "I'll be fine. You're here and the boys will keep me busy."

Harry took another bite of his ice cream. "Just say the word and we'll go."

"Maybe he's not going to stay," I thought aloud. "Astoria's not with them. Maybe they're just picking something up." I heard him snort. "What?"

"He's not going anywhere now that he's seen you in your weekend clothes, coated in chocolate."

Glaring at him, I hissed, "You're not fu—effing helping."

But of course he was right. Draco and Scorpius took a seat at the next table, a large cup of chocolate raspberry ice cream in front of them. "Fancy meeting two-thirds of the Golden Trio here," he said with a smirk. "What are the chances?"

I rolled my eyes. "Like you don't see us nearly every bloody day now."

Eyes sparkling, he replied, "Ah, yes, how lucky for me."

"But you never came back yesterday," I stated, my words escaping before I could think better of it. "I waited for you."

He pursed his lips. "I thought you knew I'd be gone for the rest of the day. I'm sorry."

I waved him off. "Did you find us some books to go through?"

With a nod, he said, "I did, I'll bring them Monday."

"Great."

Gesturing to the toddler on his lap, he said, "This is Scorpius. I know he's the same age as the one getting all that chocolate ice cream in your hair."

Quickly, I turned my head to look at Sev. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," I groaned when I saw the spoon in my curls, strands of hair stuck to it.

Draco and Harry both laughed, making me want to scream. This scene was quickly becoming unbearable, despite the three little boys who were unnaturally adorable. Giving up on controlling Sev, I reached for my own ice cream, pulling it to the edge of the table so I could reach it and shoveling a spoonful into my mouth.

When I looked up, Draco's eyes were focused on my lips and I felt my skin heating under his gaze. I glared at him and he looked away, feeding a small bite to Scorpius and then taking one of his own. "I hope you're all enjoying your ice cream," he said. "I know we are."

It was so flirtatious — almost teasing — and made me want to laugh. And then I remembered that I didn't want him thinking about me or looking at me like that.

I hugged Sev to my chest and kissed the top of his head. He was the sweetest child, the complete antithesis of his namesake. He loved being held and cuddled. "We are enjoying it very much, even if we're making the biggest mess in the history of this ice cream shoppe."

Taking another bite of my ice cream, I hummed in pleasure. I felt Harry kick me under the table; he'd likely noticed how Draco was watching me. When I looked over at Harry, he had a 'what the fuck' expression on his face.

Laughing, I turned back to my ice cream.

"Chocolate raspberry?" Draco asked, his drawl lower than usual.

I felt my cheeks flush. "Yes. It's my favourite."

"Mine too," he replied.

"I remember," I repeated without thinking.

Malfoy arched a brow at me. "Did we used to eat ice cream together, Granger?"

_Fuck. I was so stupid._

"No, of course not. You heard Harry offer to take me here after work one day and recommended it. I just remember everything," I covered quickly.

The last four words out of my mouth were so apt in this situation, just like when he had told me to let him go the first time I'd run into him after the Obliviation, but I didn't let myself dwell on it.

Instead, I focused on the boys, giving James a bite of ice cream from my spoon and keeping Sev's hands away from my hair. When I looked over at Scorpius, he was unsurprisingly clean, Draco not allowing him to get ice cream all over everything. In the background, I heard Harry and Draco chatting about some Quidditch match that had been highlighted in _The Daily Prophet_.

Scorpius started to writhe in Draco's lap, so he let him down, his eyes following his unsteady movements around our tables. As Scorpius toddled, I waved to him, prompting Sev to do the same. A smile crossed his little face and he waved back.

"Hi, Scorpius," I said, forcing happiness into my tone, even though I was barely holding it together. "You look just like your daddy!"

He looked to Draco and babbled. "Da-da-dada-da."

When his light eyes — Draco's eyes — focused on me again, I introduced myself. "I'm Hermione, but you can call me Mi. Can you say Mi?"

Sev laughed and started saying Mi over and over. Scorpius mimicked him, my shortened name coming from his little mouth. "Mi! Mi!"

As the two toddlers chattered, Scorpius moved closer, eventually trying to climb into my lap. I scooped him up, balancing him on one leg and Sev on the other. They were becoming fast friends and I wondered if Astoria would eventually be coming around Grimmauld Place.

My stomach turned at the thought of playdates between my godchildren and Scorpius, Astoria essentially in the place I had wanted for myself. Jealousy threatened to overtake me, but then a little hand tugged on my curls.

"Ouch!" I said, and Scorpius' eyes widened. "Let go."

Unfurling his tiny fist, he released my hair.

"He listened to you right away," Draco observed aloud. "You're a natural. You'll be a great mum someday."

Immediately, my brain tried to run away to other conversations — ones we'd had when we were still pretending that Draco would leave Astoria — but I didn't let it. I buried my emotions and looked at his son — the little person I had prioritised when I'd made my decision.

"Someday," I replied quietly. "But for now, I have James and Sev and little Lily."

As if he'd forgotten, Draco turned to Harry. "How are Pansy and the baby?"

"They're doing well," Harry stated. "It's been helpful having Hermione around this weekend."

Draco nodded. "I'm sure. Maybe Zabini should go to Italy more often."

At the mention of Blaise, my heart squeezed. I was sitting here with Draco's son on my lap, wishing the child was mine, while my boyfriend was away for work. Suddenly, everything felt wrong. I started to think about how Astoria would react if she saw me holding her son, of a potential picture in _The Daily Prophet_.

I knew I was playing with fire.

Clearing the lump that had formed in my throat, I said, "I need the loo. Can you two take your little ones?"

Draco stood and grabbed Sev first, passing him to Harry before he leaned down to grab Scorpius, taking him from me. I hoped he hadn't noticed the tears that had started filling my eyes.

Once I was childless, I rose and headed for the loo. I could feel both men watching me, and before the door closed, I heard Draco say, "What did I do wrong? Did she take me seriously when I said Blaise should go to Italy more often?"

_What indeed, Malfoy. Of course you wouldn't know or understand. I took that all away from you, and now I'm crying because all I ever wanted was the chance to start a family with you and I just held your perfect son. What a fucking stupid girl I was! Or I am. I am bloody fucking stupid._

I went into a cubicle and sat on the toilet seat, covering my eyes as tears flowed freely. I felt utterly hopeless, like my whole world was crashing down around me. This week had been utter shite, and it seemed it wasn't going to get much better.

After a few minutes had passed, my tears finally stopped and I stood and exited the cubicle, heading for the mirror. Thankfully, magic could fix my red, swollen eyes and runny nose. I knew Malfoy would likely be gone when I exited the toilet, but I fixed myself up just in case.

To my surprise, he was still sitting there with Harry, all three boys cleaned up and the ice cream containers gone. Including my half-eaten one.

James screeched, "Auntie Mi!"

His outburst drew every eye in the ice cream parlour, and I noticed other patrons watching us. It wasn't every day that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had ice cream together. It was nearly newsworthy to those who had nothing better to talk about or little to no intelligence.

Trying to ignore the additional attention, I sat back down and Draco smiled at me, making my heart skip a beat.

"Guess what?" he asked, his excitement barely masked.

I shrugged my shoulders, gesturing for him to go on.

"I stopped by the apothecary on my way here and took more pictures," he said quietly. "I wasn't sure if anyone would be going over the weekend. I'll pop by tomorrow, too."

"That's great. When you get in Monday, I'll teach you the enhancement spells."

Clearing his throat, Harry said, "No more work talk. It's Saturday and I'm on leave."

Draco grimaced. "Sorry, Potter. I'm still getting back into the swing of things, so I'm excited."

"Quite alright. We were going to take James and Sev over to a playground by where Hermione grew up in London. Did you want to bring Scorpius along?"

Malfoy looked like he was considering it, and I froze.

When I snapped out of it, I noticed his grey eyes fixed on me again. He had Scorpius on his lap and was examining me closely, making me feel stripped bare.

"I think we should probably head home. Astoria will be home soon," Draco stated, reading me just as well as he always had. "I don't want to intrude on anything. I didn't mean to upset you earlier, Granger."

"I'm fine, really. Just a bit weepy when it comes to kids since I don't have any yet," I explained, and it sounded unconvincing to my own ears.

Draco smirked at me, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sure Blaise would be willing to help you with that problem."

Forcing a laugh, I said, "Maybe. It's too soon to say for sure." I paused, wondering if he was declining the invitation because he thought I was upset with him. "Also, don't deny Scorpius the chance to play on my account. I promise I'm fine."

We all stood, Harry holding Sev and Draco settling Scorpius on his hip.

"We'll be seeing each other every day this week, Granger. I wouldn't want you to get sick of me before we even start the workweek."

_Oh, Draco, I'll never be sick of you. That's half the problem._

Harry intervened, breaking the awkward silence since I hadn't responded. "Well, Malfoy, I'll see you when I get back to work. It sounds like you may have that case wrapped up by then, which is exciting."

Holding out his hand to shake Harry's, Draco replied, "Let's hope so. I'm sure Granger and I will figure it all out. Potions and runes are right up our alley."

Turning, he started to offer his hand to me, but I had started to reach for Sev at the same time. As I awkwardly accepted the toddler from Harry, Draco grinned.

"Sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to — I would've—"

"Granger, it's fine. I know you've got your hands full. Plenty of opportunity to shake hands another time." He looked at Scorpius. "Say goodbye to Hermione and the Potters."

Scorpius waved. "Bye!"

He smiled when I waved back, and my heart melted.

By some miracle, I managed to hold it together. Once Draco left, Disapparating with Scorpius securely in his arms, I let out a shaky exhale. Harry quickly linked his elbow with mine and managed to pick James up with his free arm.

Rather than heading into Muggle London, we walked down Diagon Alley to the small park. I set Severus in the swing and started to push him with small bursts of magic. Harry did the same with James.

"Are you okay, Hermione?"

"No, Harry. I can honestly say that I am not at all okay." I huffed and wiped at my eyes. "Since Blaise has been gone, Draco's been everywhere. And since he's remembered minor things… I've been to the Manor _twice_ in one week, and I had to make a replica of the necklace he gave me to placate Lucius and Astoria."

The two boys laughed, apparently oblivious to my mood. I was happy about that. Pansy wouldn't be happy if she found out I was a wreck in front of the kids.

"Do you need to come off his case?" Harry asked. "I know I'm not working, but I can reassign it if needed."

I shook my head. "Honestly, he'd just get upset. He's doing a great job and has made connections that no one else has. And, as for me, I'm the only runes expert you've got at the moment, so I'll make it work. Blaise will be back on Monday and I'm sure everything will go back to normal. Draco won't want to hang out in my office."

"Oh, he'll want to, just won't be able to."

Slapping at his arm, I said, "Honestly, what is with you today?"

"He's always going to be around trying to get your attention. You just can't give in, Hermione," Harry said.

I focused my energy on pushing Sev's swing, stifling my emotions. "What Draco and I had… it was beautiful and wonderful, but I know it was wrong. He was married and I just disregarded that because it was an arranged marriage. I thought that since he hadn't married for love, it changed things. Now I'm wondering if he would've loved her if I'd just stayed away from him like any decent woman would have."

He shrugged. "It was wrong on both of your parts, but it happened. And I know you were in love. Love makes you do stupid things sometimes."

As I thought about what he'd said, I grew even more anxious.

_If I still loved Draco, would I do the same stupid things all over again? Could I stop myself?_

* * *

On Sunday, I kept my promise, meeting Blaise at his flat wearing nothing but a pair of black knickers and a smile. When he stepped into the bedroom, his face lit up, his eyes immediately heating as they raked over my body. I was laying on my stomach, my bare breasts pushing into the satin of the duvet, a book in front of me. The lacy knickers exposed more of my arse than they covered. I'd tied my hair back in a high ponytail, the long curls falling over one of my shoulders.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're perfection."

Grinning at him, I picked my feet up off the mattress, bending my knees and crossing my ankles in the air. "Am I?"

In response, he moved to the end of the bed and grabbed my ponytail, tilting my head up so he could capture my lips. He kissed me hard, possessively, taking everything he wanted from me. My mind went blank, lost in the moment. When he finally broke away, he kept my head tilted up, looking at him.

"I missed you so much," he said.

Still dazed from this kiss, I just smiled at him.

"I didn't think you'd actually be waiting for me in just your knickers."

"Well, Mr. Zabini," I replied, pulling on his tie. "I always keep my word."

Our lips met again, devouring each other like we didn't have another second to spare. I felt him shifting, removing his shoes. My hand released his tie and reached for his belt, quickly undoing the buckle and then the fly of his trousers.

He broke the kiss, standing up straight and taking off his shirt and tie. I marked my place in the book and pushed it to the opposite side of the king bed. With a smirk, he stepped out of the trousers that had pooled around his ankles, leaving him only in his tight pants, his cock straining against the material. I could tell he was hard, that he wanted this more than he wanted his next breath.

Wanted me more than his next breath.

I started to roll over and he stopped me. "Oh no, Tesoro. You're going to stay just as you are now for me."

Blinking up at him, I watched as his hand slid into his pants, wrapping around his shaft and squeezing. "Don't you want—"

"Oh, I _want_. And I'll take what I want, but I'm going to come so fast," he stated. "I just want to look at you. I want you to watch me."

My lips parted in shock, but my eyes didn't leave him. Using his free hand, he pulled his shorts down, fully revealing himself to me. As I watched him, I found myself growing wet, dying to come. I shifted, twisting my hips so I was nearly laying on my side.

Blaise's eyes darkened when I started rubbing myself through my knickers, soft sighs and whimpers escaping my lips. I brought my other hand to my breast, squeezing and kneading, grazing my palm over my nipple.

Again, his strokes increased, and I felt my cunt starting to clench. My hips started shifting against my hand, a synchronized dance, and I moaned.

"Are you going to come with me?" he purred, his voice low and rumbling.

I nodded, my eyes squeezing shut. "I'm so close."

"Look at me," Blaise commanded. "Open those beautiful eyes."

I did, meeting his gaze, seeing the desire burning in their depths. The intensity of the moment was nearly more than I could bear.

"Ready?"

I started rolling my nipple between my thumb and forefinger, the added stimulation sending waves of pleasure down my spine to my core. I could feel how soaked my knickers were, how aroused I was. "Yes," I moaned, my fingers speeding up infinitesimally. "Yes, I'm coming!"

And then I was incoherent, quiet screams escaping me as I shuddered from my own touch. I saw the come flood over Blaise's hand and another wave hit me, knocking me over and sweeping me away. I landed on my back, body writhing.

When the bed dipped beside me, I moved closer and Blaise wrapped his arm around my waist, leaning over me and kissing me hard. As our tongues touched, he groaned, working his way on top of me. I opened my legs, allowing him to settle between them, and he took full advantage.

His lips moved down my neck to my chest, his hands roaming over my skin. Sucking a nipple into his mouth, he palmed the opposite breast. My hand settled against the back of his head, holding him to me, and my body arched, begging for more.

He slowly pulled back, gently tugging at my nipple with his teeth. I cried out, breaking the lust-filled silence that had fallen between us. When he finally let go of it, he said, "I think you missed me a lot." Dropping another kiss to my lips, his hand moved between us, sliding down my body and into my knickers. When he felt how wet I was, he hissed. "Fuck, Hermione."

"Please, Blaise," I begged. "I need—"

Silencing me with a hard stroke over my clit, he started moving back down again, his mouth bypassing my breasts this time. By the time he hit the lace covering me, I was squirming and desperate.

"Lift," he said, grabbing my knickers.

I arched my hips off the bed and then lifted my legs up, helping him to remove the barrier between us. His hands fell on my inner thighs, pressing my legs further apart and spreading me out for him. Wasting no time at all, he buried his face in my cunt, his tongue thrusting inside of me for just a second before sliding up to my clit.

Blaise draped an arm over my waist, holding me still. Fisting the duvet, I strained against him, wanting to move and participate. He didn't let me. He just devoured me and made me scream, my body shaking with pleasure more than once.

Just when I thought his tongue would never relent, he stopped and moved up my body, driving inside of me without warning.

"God, you're fucking tight," he groaned. "You feel so good."

My pussy spasmed, gripping him even tighter.

"Are you there already, Granger?"

I was so shocked, feeling like I had been doused with ice water, my eyes popping open.

_Granger?_

Blaise had never called me Granger — not in conversation, and certainly not during sex. My body was too far gone already and I came, but it wasn't Blaise's face I saw. As I looked over his shoulder, the grey eyes that I had looked into countless times while in this position stared back at me.

I knew they weren't there, that my brain was just manifesting the image, but I wanted to cry out his name, to feel his fringe tickling against my forehead, his long fingers gripping my thigh as he pulled it higher and wrapped it around his waist.

Forcing myself to refocus, I looked up at Blaise. He was smiling down at me and I felt like the worst person to have ever lived. "So that's what, four times?"

I nodded, leaning up to kiss him. I needed to immerse myself in him again. Breathing deeply, I focused on his cologne, on the way he felt moving against me. It was so different from the way Draco felt but just as intense.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breaking the kiss. "You're… quieter than usual."

"Fine. Overwhelmed."

It wasn't a lie, not technically. I _was_ feeling overwhelmed.

Slowing his movements from thrusts to grinds, he captured my lips for a moment, his tongue barely teasing my lips. "We'll slow down," he murmured. "You tell me what you want, Tesoro."

"This is good," I sighed, reaching for his hands and lacing our fingers together.

As I stretched my arms over my head, he pressed down, pinning me to the mattress the way I'd wanted him to. Blaise leaned down, burying his face against my neck.

"So good," he agreed.

And that was how we stayed, moving slowly, our bodies sliding against each other as they grew damp with sweat, his lips against my neck. I knew I would have a love bite, and I knew why he was putting it there, but I didn't care. It was my fault that he was feeling insecure.

I let Blaise make love to me, claim me, because I needed him to. I needed him to remind me that this was right, that I was his.

Because, after he'd called me Granger, it had felt all wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I added to my Author's Note last week after a couple of hours. I just wanted to let all of you know that I've posted a short snippet of Blaise's POV (which I'm working on in the background because he won't leave me alone) to [Tumblr.](https://potionchemist.tumblr.com/post/628645763449290752/blaise-pov-the-memory-of-you) It won't post til we reach a certain moment in this story, but I'm also hoping to give you guys that moment in Diagon that Harry and Pansy talked about in chapter 25 by the end of the weekend.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. I know this feels like it's moving slow week to week, but we are going day by day now. As we get further into June... you'll see. *wink*


	27. Draco, 11-13th June 2007

The weekend had gone by in a blur.

On Friday evening, I rummaged through all of Astoria's beauty products while she was visiting Daphne. I opened every perfume bottle and sniffed, trying to find the right one. All of the scents were ones I'd seen advertised my whole life — all manufactured and sold in the wizarding world. I didn't come across anything that looked Muggle. I also searched the closet for the red dress to no avail.

When she walked into our bedroom, I confronted her again, asking her what happened to the items I remembered. She simply rolled her eyes and said, "I hated the perfume, Draco. You were the one who liked it, but it made me nauseous when I was pregnant. I got rid of it."

"And the dress?"

Astoria shrugged. "Again, not my taste. It was much too… red."

As I went over the past months in my head, I realised she didn't often wear the colour, so I didn't question it. While the circumstances seemed suspicious, I had no proof that she wasn't telling me the truth.

"I'm going to pick up the necklace in the morning, though," she offered. "Maybe it'll jog something else for you."

And then she kissed me with enough heat to silence my brain, temporarily shutting down my doubts.

We fell into bed, the way we often did since I'd returned to work, Astoria initiating everything. I never refused her; when we were having sex, I felt a connection to her. Even if it was somewhat superficial, it was better than the constant feeling of distance between us.

Early Saturday morning, I popped out to take photos at the apothecary. I was determined to figure out the mystery of the runes, and I needed to see if they had changed since the previous day. The lines had shifted, and I was ecstatic. It was confusing, but we now had more data to sort through, to find a pattern in.

As soon as I returned, she went to Diagon Alley to retrieve the necklace, leaving me to care for Scorpius. I readily agreed; since I'd gone back to work, I tried to spend as much time as possible with him in the evening and on weekends.

But seeing the necklace hadn't jogged anything for me. When I looked at it, I remembered buying it, but not giving it to Astoria. I couldn't recall the look on her face when she'd opened it or ever seeing it around her neck. It was a classic design — a single, large round-cut diamond set in white gold — so I couldn't imagine it wasn't to her taste.

"So will you please stop obsessing over these memories now?" she asked, and I bristled.

It was obvious she didn't understand what it felt like to have huge stretches of time that you couldn't remember, that made you wonder what had happened and made you feel like your life wasn't quite right. Rather than letting out my frustration, I simply nodded and returned my attention to Scorpius, escaping to the ice cream parlour as soon as possible.

I was shocked to end up spending time with Potter and Granger there, sitting with them like it was as natural as breathing, my son laughing and smiling with his.

Honestly, I was surprised that Scorpius took to Granger so quickly — Astoria often told me he didn't like being handed off to her friends. When he settled instantly, smiling and babbling, my stomach twisted. I felt like I'd missed out on something, though it didn't really make any sense.

Unless I was equating the moment with the silly dreams I'd had in the past.

And Granger seemed wistful when she looked at Scorpius specifically, her expression much different when she looked at Potter's sons. Though I fully admitted my brain could've been making that up.

When I arrived home, Astoria smiled up at me, and I instantly felt like I'd done something wrong. I shouldn't have been spending time with Granger outside of work and letting her hold my son. It was completely irrational — we'd not been alone and we hadn't even touched — but the guilt still overwhelmed me to the point that I hadn't told Astoria who we'd seen at the ice cream parlour.

Instead, I spent the rest of the weekend trying to make up for it, even though she had no idea. Other than photographing the apothecary on Sunday morning — shielded by a Disillusionment Charm — I stayed with Astoria and Scorpius and played the role of the doting husband all through Sunday dinner at the Manor, drawing confused looks from my parents.

Honestly, it had been exhausting.

Walking into the office Monday morning, I stopped in my tracks. Zabini was standing in Granger's office doorway, blocking my access. I was carrying the books I'd retrieved from the Manor on Friday, planning to go straight to her. Instead, I walked to my own desk, setting the stack down and patiently waiting for him to go about his day.

However, when he moved, he stepped into her office and didn't come out. After an hour of irritatedly turning pages, pretending to look at the runes, I decided to go and interrupt their morning.

As soon as I reached the doorway, Granger's eyes landed on me and she stiffened the tiniest bit. I knocked on the doorframe before crossing the threshold into her office and saw Blaise camped out in the seat I'd occupied for the latter half of the previous week, his paperwork from Italy spread out in front of him.

"Good morning, Granger, Blaise."

"Malfoy," they said in unison.

"Granger, I have those books from the Manor if you want to go through them. And the photos — you said you wanted to teach me that enhancement charm."

Looking down at the parchment she'd been focused on before I walked in, she replied, "If you grab the photos, I can show you quickly. I'm helping Blaise wrap up things from Italy today."

The unspoken words were clear — the partnership we'd had last week was gone now. She'd help me when she had time, when she wasn't busy helping Blaise.

More than likely, she was placating him and it frustrated me to no end. She'd never seemed like the type to let a man control her life, especially when it came to her work. However, I decided to hold my tongue for the moment; it would do me no good to confront her with Blaise watching our interactions like a hawk.

I couldn't understand why he was so concerned about us working together — I wasn't a single bloke. I had a son and a wife. I had fantasies about Granger, and I likely always would, but I wasn't going to act on them.

"Sure," I said, hearing the bitterness in my own tone.

Her brown eyes peeked up at me, clearly regretful, and I knew. I knew she wanted to keep working with me, but she was afraid of upsetting Blaise. With a sigh, I turned and walked back to my desk to retrieve the photos. For a moment, I debated waiting until he left her office to go back, but I wasn't sure how long it would be.

I grabbed the photos and headed over. Much to my surprise, Blaise was holding two coffee mugs and heading for the breakroom. I wondered if she'd sent him away so she could try to explain herself.

When I stepped through her door, Granger smiled at me. "Sorry. I fully intended to finish things with you, but this case is apparently still going to take a few days to wrap up. If you've not figured it out by then, I'll jump back in."

"It's fine, Granger," I began, handing her the photos. "As long as that's all it is. I wasn't sure if Blaise had a problem with us working together."

"I suppose that's part of it, too. He doesn't seem to want to let me out of his sight today."

"You told him you were helping me last week?"

She nodded. "I did. I figured it would make it easier if I was upfront about it." Worrying her bottom lip, she added, "I guess I was wrong about that."

"Why does he care so much?" I asked.

Looking up at me, she replied, "I'm not entirely sure."

Inexplicably, I felt like she was lying to me, though I knew she had no reason to. My suspicions were just constant. With so many memories missing, I had little to no precedent for trust in any relationship.

A moment later, she said, "Okay, so come around and I'll show you how to do this. Do your best to transfer all the runes and corresponding dates to a table, and hopefully we'll be able to figure it all out."

Stepping behind her, I leaned over her shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating off of her skin. She was wearing perfume — something fresh and light that didn't suit her — but I breathed her in anyway. I thought I heard her breath hitch, but she kept her face pointedly forward.

She cleared her throat. "Okay, so I didn't really create this with an incantation in mind, so it's a bit silly. It's _Augende_ , just Latin for enhance." She moved her wand in a clockwise circle, stopping about three quarters of the way through and cutting in horizontally, crossing over the initial circle.

"It's almost like an e," I observed.

With a nod, Granger replied, "It is. Obviously you need to make sure the intent is in your mind, as well. In this case, I focused on being able to see the rune more clearly, sharpening the edges and increasing the contrast."

"Swot," I teased. "This really is brilliant, Hermione."

Her head turned the slightest bit towards me, her corners of lips quirking upwards in a smile. Her face was so close to mine that if I turned even the slightest bit more, my lips would brush her cheek. I took a deep breath and pulled back.

"Why don't you try?" she said, moving over to give me access to the photo. "Just hold your wand over it and try to enhance something else. Then we'll go back to the runes."

Conjuring a chair so I could sit beside her, I tried to focus on the goal at hand.

_Scorpius. Astoria. Blaise._

_Do not think about Granger or how you could've easily kissed her._

I held my wand over an out of focus sign on the apothecary's door. Thinking about unblurring the words, I said, " _Augende._ "

As I moved my wand over the photo, nothing really happened. Granger let me attempt it twice more on my own, and then her hand settled over mine. When her skin touched me, I felt the warmth of it start in my hand and spread up my arm. A crackle of some sort — magic or static — shocked me, making my mind and heart race. I suppressed an out-of-place shiver of pleasure.

Honestly, it was a similar feeling to the first time I'd held my wand, like my magic recognised something special, even if I couldn't.

When I glanced sideways, Granger seemed to be glowing and goosebumps had risen on her arm. She paused, and I saw her swallow hard before taking a deep breath. I wasn't sure if she felt it too or if maybe it was just all in my head...

And then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

She directed my movements skillfully, though I wasn't focused on the task at hand at all. Her intent, however, must have been clear as day because the words on the sign were no longer blurred. Our fingers were still interlaced, holding my wand even after the spell had been cast. Neither of us seemed to be able to let go. Seconds passed so slowly they felt like minutes, and all I could think about was how right she felt, how brilliant she was.

"Now you try again," Hermione said quietly, finally pulling away and leaving my skin cold in her wake. "Refocus on the rune."

But I couldn't. I felt a strange sense of longing — as if I'd found something I didn't know I'd been missing and then lost it again. My magic was searching for it, wanting to feel the connection again. I was frozen, thinking about how easily she had touched me, like she'd done it a million times before. Even though I knew it was wrong, I asked her to show me the movements once more just to see if she hesitated.

She didn't. And the longing feeling quieted as soon as her hand settled over mine again.

Of course, just as we were completing the spell, Blaise walked in. His eyes narrowed on me.

"Malfoy, you can't possibly need all that much help with a simple charm," he said, his tone icy.

Hermione pulled her hand away like she'd been burned, her cheeks turning pink. "It's really not that simple. The wand movement—"

Taking the focus off of her, I cast the charm, enhancing the sign on the door again. When she looked down at it, she smiled. "Good, Draco. That was really good."

"You're an excellent teacher, Granger," I replied. "And apparently a gifted spell designer, as well."

Again, Blaise interrupted us. " _Hermione_ , I have your coffee."

I hadn't missed the emphasis on her name, like he was showing me that they had gone beyond calling each other by surnames, but I didn't care. She would always be Granger to me.

"Thank you," she responded. "Well, to both of you. For the compliments and the coffee."

"You're quite welcome," I said, rising to my feet. "I'll start putting that chart you mentioned together. Hopefully we can figure out the pattern before someone really ends up hurt."

"I'm sure we will. If you've got books from the Manor, we'll be able to find everything we need to figure it out."

As she handed me the photos, I saw sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there before and she looked like she was holding something back.

Turning to Zabini, I said, "Don't keep her from me for too long."

My comment was meant to be teasing and funny, but his jaw twitched in anger. "She's not yours, Malfoy."

I held my hands up in mock surrender. "Calm down, mate. It was a joke."

Hermione got to her feet, positioning herself between us. She took her coffee mug from Blaise and smiled up at him before kissing his cheek, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Draco," she began, "let me know if you find anything useful in the books. I can pull from the archives here, as well."

I'd been dismissed skillfully, so I maneuvered around them, my hand lightly grazing her lower back as I passed.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she realised I had been the one to touch her. Even though it shouldn't have, it pleased me to no end that I had an effect on her.

"Right. I'll check in with you tomorrow, Granger."

* * *

However, the next day, Hermione and Blaise were absent from the office. Her office door remained shut all morning and I had no fucking clue where she was until Mel came to say hello.

"They're in Italy wrapping things up," she said, rolling her eyes. "Blaise said that Hermione would be more helpful than another Auror would, so here I am, left behind so he can take his girlfriend to Venice for two nights."

"That's not where your case was," I stated.

Mel shook her head. "Oh, I know. I heard him on the phone. Apparently, there's a hotel they stay at every Christmas, and he's taking her there for two nights. A mini holiday."

Pictures started racing through my mind. Blaise and Hermione walking hand in hand along the canal, riding in a gondola, having photos taken on the Rialto Bridge…

Blaise down on one knee, proposing to her in a location that was significant to them.

"—going to be right pissed at him. Her workweek was interrupted by Lily's arrival last week and now he's keeping her in Venice for two days," Mel explained.

The thought of Hermione being pissed at Blaise stopped my runaway imagination and made me smile.

"Right," I replied. "So, do you have any plans or cases for today?"

"Um, no, I've only really been working with Blaise and he didn't leave anything for me. Not that he usually does. He always takes care of the reports and all that. Why? Do you need help with something?"

I nodded. "I think I do, especially if Granger is going to be away for more than one day."

"Well, let's nick a conference room and spread out then," Mel said brightly.

Much to my surprise, she dove headfirst into a book on Arabic runes, reading nearly as fast as Granger did. We'd enhanced and enlarged the runes that had appeared since last week, examining their changes.

Marking things into a chart, complete with date and timestamps, we didn't seem to make much progress.

"This is bloody frustrating," Mel groaned, pressing her fingers into her eyes after hours of research. "I don't understand why they move. I agree that this one"—she pointed to the rune she was referring to—"is definitely for invisibility, and I'm wondering if the way that line points is indicative of time of day. Sort of like 'come here, invisible, at this time of day.'"

I just shrugged and asked, "Is there anyone else here that's good with runes or codebreaking?"

"We can ask for assistance, but it may be faster to just wait for Hermione to get back," she answered. "It usually takes the request a few days to go through unless it's a matter of life or death and this case has been ignored for so long that I doubt they'll expedite anything now."

The longer we struggled with the runes, the angrier I got with Blaise. And with Granger. She knew I would need her help on this, and she'd just fucked off to Italy with her boyfriend.

Like it was no big deal. Like we hadn't been working well together. Like I hadn't brought her the rare runic texts from the Manor. Like she hadn't felt the connection between us when we'd been holding my wand together.

I ran my hand through my fringe. "I need to get out of here and clear my head. Do you want to get a late lunch?"

She nodded. "Let's go to Diagon. I want to check out these runes in person and I've not been hanging around the apothecary. I could even go in to buy something."

Rising from my seat, I stretched and gestured for her to lead the way. We Floo'd over to the Leaky and Mel made her way to the shop, assuring me that she could think on her feet and would be perfectly fine.

When I stepped up to the bar, Hannah smiled at me again. "Draco! Back so soon?"

"We're on a case. Mel's just popping out to get some photos."

"Ah, makes more sense now!" She gestured to the vacant seats at the bar. "Sit down. The lunch rush is over. I'll get you something to eat while you wait for her to get back."

"Actually, she's going to be joining me. She's turned her day upside down to help me since Granger and Blaise are away," I said, not wanting to be rude. "I'll wait for her to get back if that's okay."

"Fine with me," she replied, leaning back against the opposite counter and resting a hand on her stomach. I could see that she had the tiniest bump. She saw my eyes move to her hand and laughed. "Yes, I'm pregnant. Don't worry about being rude or insinuating that I'm fat."

Letting out a relieved chuckle, I said, "Congratulations to you and Longbottom, then. You'll love being a parent. I certainly do."

I could tell she was chewing her cheek, debating whether or not to say something. Merlin, the witch was nearly transparent.

After a moment, she said, "I'm glad you're enjoying it. You were so worried… before."

"Before?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"Before your accident," she clarified. "You were here quite a bit. I think you were feeling very stressed about things."

"Well, thank you for your hospitality, then," I quipped. "I certainly don't remember it, but I'm sure I thoroughly overstayed my welcome."

"Oh, of course not! I just did my best to make sure you got home safely at the end of the night."

I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the accident, but there were just blank spaces again when I looked around the Leaky and tried to remember anything about those nights.

"I'm sure Astoria loved that," I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "I was such a fucking idiot."

When Hannah didn't reply, I looked up and she was staring at me like she'd just put the pieces of a huge, fucked up puzzle together. Her eyes looked almost misty.

"Yeah, she certainly wasn't happy when I called her to come get you," she said, her voice shakier than it had been before. "But pregnancy will certainly make you more emotional than normal."

Trying to lighten the mood, I smirked. "Like you right now?" At her nod, I continued, "Are you crying because I was getting pissed in your pub with a pregnant wife at home?"

"Something like that," she replied. "I'm sure it was a hard time for everyone, though."

I noted that she didn't say 'the two of you' or 'you and Astoria', but I didn't know what to make of it and I didn't get the opportunity to push her for answers.

Mel came into the pub, a grin on her face and her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth. "Guess what?"

"What?" I asked, amused by her enthusiasm.

"I know what the rune is doing!"

* * *

Mel's breakthrough with the rune had been genuine, but we still needed Granger to help us put everything together. There were a few other runes to decipher, and while we'd made headway, an expert opinion would be beneficial.

But she was gone all day Wednesday, as well.

My irritation grew exponentially, and I knew it was at least partly from jealousy, but it was also professional. This hadn't been a planned vacation or trip; it was Blaise using his case and his position to take her out of the office so she'd stay away from me.

When I left the Ministry on Wednesday afternoon, I was in a foul mood and needed to calm down before I went home. Astoria would only annoy me more, asking me why I was home early and why I was in such a temper.

I Apparated to Diagon Alley, deciding to wander a bit in an attempt to clear my mind. My eyes scanned the street, taking in everything around me and looking for something I couldn't quite place. Sighing, I walked towards the entrance to Knockturn Alley, retracing the steps I'd taken when I was much younger. While this likely wouldn't settle me, my feet automatically moved that way.

My mind was still spinning, still fixated on Granger, still picturing Blaise holding her close. I could see Venice, the waters of the canal lapping against the walls. I could visualise them together, hand-in-hand, laughing and smiling while they shopped. And I could see the love in her eyes when she looked at him, the way he made her happy.

I could picture the look that probably settled over her features when he made her come.

And a diamond ring on her finger, sparkling in the Italian sun, her left hand pressed against Blaise's cheek.

I never would've imagined my best mate getting the woman I wanted — the life I wanted — keeping her in my orbit, but just out of reach for me.

Torture.

The pain in my chest when I thought of receiving a wedding invitation, a pregnancy announcement, a fucking baby photo from the two of them was excruciating.

And I knew this was a major overreaction — I didn't know that Blaise was proposing to her — but I couldn't stop my brain.

Why did I feel so strongly? Why did it feel like I had lost her?

I blinked, realising I'd stopped walking. When I looked up, I was in front of a bookstore. It was fitting, given the witch consuming my thoughts. I stepped inside, disappearing into the shelves of old magical tomes. Finding the runes section, I let my fingers skim the spines, looking for anything that could be useful in the case.

Anything that Granger might enjoy.

As I browsed, something tugged at the back of my mind. Of course I'd been here before — my father had frequented this bookshop since I was a child — but, as usual, I couldn't place it. Finally, I came to a book entitled _Runic Modification in Irani Protective Wards_.

I had a gut feeling that I needed this book, that it could help to solve the potioneer case. It was just too fitting.

Pulling it from the shelves, I made my way to the counter. When the clerk looked up at me, his eyes widened.

"Mr. Malfoy! It's been years," he said in greeting. "But don't worry. I have the book you purchased the last time you were in. I've been holding onto it for you."

I didn't know why, but my heart raced and my brain started firing, the way it had the day I smelled the perfume. "Well, thank you for keeping it this long. I had an accident and lost quite a chunk of my memory."

Nodding, he reached under the counter and pulled the book out. "It certainly wasn't easy to find, so I wanted to hold it."

When I looked at the title, my breath caught.

_Using Magic on Muggle Minds: From Memory Modification to Mind Control_

Why the hell would I need that book?

I looked at it like it was something foul, refusing to take it from him. When he read my expression, he set it on the counter and extended his hand for the book I was holding.

Trying to buy time, I cleared my throat. "Why didn't you just owl it to me?"

He peered up over his rectangular glasses. "You explicitly asked me not to owl you about this particular book."

"I wonder why that was," I mused aloud. "It's just a book, after all. Is there anything… unsavoury about it?"

"This book is obviously banned by the Ministry," he said casually, "but they only banned printing it. They didn't ban the sale of it."

"I don't understand what I could possibly need with a book about Muggle minds," I replied, my memory failing me once more.

His eyes met mine, my confusion clearly evident to him. "Listen, I don't know how much I should tell you, but you were looking for this book to help someone."

His answer didn't jog anything for me. "Do you know who?"

"For your—" he sighed. "For… the woman… you used to meet here."

For the hundredth time that day, my heart sped up. Even though I knew what his answer would be, I asked, "My wife?"

He shook his head. "No," he said pointedly. "She definitely was not your wife."


	28. Draco, 13-14th June 2007

When I finished paying for the rune book, the clerk placed both tomes in a bag and handed it to me. "I know you're reluctant to keep it, but if I were you, I would. You've already paid handsomely for it, and it's at the very least a rare text."

"Do you know who the woman with me was?"

Quickly, he said, "No, I don't."

I knew he was lying, or at least telling me a half-truth, but I didn't press him, knowing how most of the business owners in Knockturn Alley reacted when they thought they were being examined too closely.

"Okay," I replied. "I'll take it. Hopefully I can figure it out eventually."

Nodding, he smiled. "There are some things you can just never forget, not really. She'll come back to you."

_Muggles… Spells for their minds…_

With the smile and the comments the man had made, I highly doubted the witch in question was interested in somehow controlling the minds of Muggles. Memory modification would be a possibility, though.

As I headed back out into the sparse pedestrian traffic of Knockturn Alley, my mind was now focused on the mystery witch.

I walked along, barely seeing the cobblestones or noticing other people's feet. Lost in my thoughts once more, I tried to remember anything — any witch that seemed out of place. But she must have been hidden within the gaps of my memory.

It was odd, really, that I'd sneak down to Knockturn Alley, a place I didn't want to be associated with, to meet a woman. And if we were discussing Muggles, she was either a Muggle-born or a Muggle hater.

And the clerk had said I was trying to help her. Had I gotten myself wrapped up in something nefarious again?

It didn't seem likely, but I just didn't fucking know. I didn't know anything, and this was just another mystery to add to the list.

_She definitely was not your wife._

Not Astoria, but from his tone, from the way he'd said there were some things you just never forgot... She had to be special. She had to be something I'd miss.

An affair?

The idea seemed ridiculous on the surface, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. The lack of intimacy between Astoria and me, the supposed travel for work, the resentment I saw from her sometimes...

But if this woman had been so important to me, where was she now? Why hadn't she come to me after the accident?

Groaning at my own stupidity, I ran my free hand through my hair. I was married. I had a pregnant wife at home. How would she have been able to?

Or maybe she had already left me by that point and that's why I'd been spending nights in the Leaky getting pissed.

I was a complete tosser.

Why had I been drawn to that bookshop? Why had my feet carried me there automatically while I was thinking about—

_GRANGER._

Muggles, memory modification… I recalled a story I'd read after the war, Granger's face smiling up with her parents on either side of her on Platform 9 and 3/4 before sixth year, her curls still a little wild.

_WAR HEROINE OBLIVIATES PARENTS TO SAVE THEIR LIVES, SPELL DEEMED IRREVERSIBLE_

I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Meeting Granger in secret at a Knockturn Alley bookshop? Looking for books on memory modification?

Was I trying to help her fix her parents?

Had she managed it in the past two years?

How could I get her alone to ask her about it?

_There are some things you can just never forget, not really._

Had I forgotten something big? Something with Hermione?

My stomach twisted, trying to recall anything about her since after the war. Books at Christmas, Muggle dresses, being a workaholic. Going to Ministry functions alone, beautiful but sad.

The Golden Girl; a strong woman, intimidating. Men admiring her from afar, afraid to move closer and be rejected. Absolutely untouchable.

Especially for me.

I could see more of her than I'd been able to since the accident, images of her from the end of the war until about two years ago coming to me easily. Smiles and polite conversation.

Where had all this been hiding the other times I'd thought of her? Was my memory coming back?

There were fewer gaps, less roadblocks, like something had been unlocked from the time I smelled the perfume in the lift. She'd been standing in front of me that day. Had it been hers?

Had Hermione's perfume triggered me? Had I been sick enough to ask her what she wore and buy it for Astoria? Because I liked it? Because I wanted to pretend—

"Draco?"

My head snapped up, finding Astoria standing in front of me, Scorpius on her hip. Trying to school my features, I forced a smile for her, clutching the bag in my hand like it held all the answers to my missing memories and she would steal it away from me.

Scorpius kicked his feet excitedly and she set him down. He toddled over to me and I crouched down, my mind calming the second his arms wrapped around my neck. Hugging him close, I picked him up, listening to the babble he was so fond of sharing.

"What a nice surprise," I said, though my voice sounded strained. "I was going to head home in a moment. I just needed to pick up a book for work."

Blue eyes narrowing slightly, Astoria looked at the bag in my hand. It was plain, nothing telling her where it had come from, but she seemed to recognise it in some way.

"Good," she answered, her tone tighter than usual. "I was hoping we'd have some time together tonight. I wanted to talk to you about a few things."

Taking a step towards her, I shifted the books into the hand that was holding Scorpius up. I offered my now free arm to Astoria, leading her down the cobblestones and towards the Leaky so we could Floo home.

When Hannah saw me enter, Astoria and Scorpius in tow, she smiled sadly and looked away, like we hadn't just spoken to each other yesterday.

What was going on?

And why was I just realising how strangely people had been treating me all along?

* * *

"I want to get pregnant again," Astoria stated.

Placing my hands on my hips, I met her eyes. "Why? You hated being pregnant, Astoria. We've talked about this."

"I know," she sighed, "but I want to. I want Scorpius to have siblings and friends."

"He will have friends. I didn't have siblings, and I was perfectly content," I replied. "I don't understand where this is coming from."

Her eyes watered. "Draco, why don't you want more children? You love Scorpius."

"I do love Scorpius. He is enough for me. I don't want a houseful of children—"

"Just one more," she pleaded. "I want him to have a brother or a sister. I know you don't get it because you didn't have a sibling, but Daph and I have this special bond, and one more won't equate to a houseful. Plenty of pureblood families have two children."

My stomach twisted at the thought, and I didn't really know why. I did love Scorpius. I loved him more than I had ever loved anything, but something about this felt off to me.

It wasn't a constant conversation with us. Astoria seemed to reserve it for times where she was feeling abandoned or like we weren't connecting in the ways we were supposed to. Admittedly, I'd been working a lot, but it wasn't anything she needed to panic about.

"I just don't think it's a good idea, Astoria," I said gently. "You were so exhausted the first time around, and your health has always been so delicate. I don't want it to harm you."

"Shouldn't that be my choice?" she snapped.

Incredulous, I raised an eyebrow at her. "Shouldn't having a second child be a decision we make together?"

As I watched her, she grew more and more uncomfortable. "Of course," she breathed. "I just… If you're only worried about how it will affect my health, then I want you to know that I'm not worried. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"But it's unnecessary, Astoria." Moving towards her, I extended a hand. She took it and I pulled her close, but something felt wrong, like it didn't quite fit.

Like we were trying to force something that just wasn't there.

She leaned her forehead against my shoulder and I placed a hand on the small of her back, my other landing between her shoulder blades.

"Why don't you want this?" she whispered. "Why don't you want a bigger family? More people to love?"

Thinking for a moment, I realised I didn't really have an answer for her. At my silence, she pulled back and looked up at me.

"We could be so happy," Astoria whispered, looking up at my lips. "And it could be fun, you know, the process…"

My heart started to race, but not in a good way. I remembered her looking up at me, murmuring those words once before, but the emotions in the scene were at odds with my body language, with the way I'd recoiled from her.

_She definitely was not your wife._

The conflicted feelings about my memories of Astoria were becoming clearer, the difference between the scene and the emotions I felt in sharper contrast than ever before. It was like Granger's enhancing spell had been aimed right at the picture in my mind, bringing out details I hadn't noticed before.

A clenched fist by my side, a tightening around my eyes, the way there was distance between our bodies, even when we embraced…

The silence between us had already stretched out too long, so I said, "I'm sure it would be, Stori. I just don't think it's something I want. Especially not right now."

Immediately, she pulled away, looking dejected. "What's wrong with now, Draco? As I get older, my health will become more and more of a concern."

"I'm not going to bring a child into this world with no thought to it."

Astoria threw her hands up in the air. "You did last time. You love Scorpius. It's not like we planned to get pregnant!" She took a few steps back from me. "But fine, Draco. We can do everything you'd like. You get to go back to work, you get to run around on weekends and do whatever you like, you get to tell me we're not having any more children."

"What do you mean I get to run around on weekends?"

She glared at me. "Tracey saw you at Fortescue's. You were with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

"Because I ran into them there," I said cautiously. "I sat at the table next to them and Scorpius—"

"Was on her lap, Draco!"

"And why does that matter? Do you think Granger would harm our son?" I asked, not understanding her problem with it. "She was holding Sev — Potter's son who is Scorpius' age — at the same time. The children were interacting!"

She turned on her heel, heading for the bedroom door. "Forget it, Draco. Just forget this whole fucking conversation."

Slamming the door behind her, she left me standing there completely dumbstruck.

* * *

I woke up alone in the middle of the night and guilt flooded through me.

Astoria had been hurt enough to sleep somewhere other than our bedroom. While I knew I'd done the right thing standing my ground, I'd never meant to upset her. I rolled onto my side, trying to doze off again, but my mind was too full, whirring with thoughts of both Astoria and Granger.

She had to be the mystery witch from the bookstore. Muggles and memory modification. Definitely not my wife. A store clerk in Knockturn Alley who didn't want to tell me exactly who she was.

A store clerk that was friends with my father, or at least a long-term acquaintance.

Astoria's reaction to Granger holding Scorpius and her sudden desire to become pregnant again.

Closing my eyes, I tried to let my mind make more connections naturally. I saw Granger at Potter and Pansy's wedding, off to the side on her own, watching as Harry swept his new wife around, laughing. Weasley and Lovegood were also dancing — if you could call it that — and her lip trembled.

I must have been watching her from across the party, never approaching her. I tried to think when Pansy and Potter had married. Five years ago, maybe?

James had been two when Scorpius was born…

Astoria hadn't been with me at the wedding. I was also alone.

Why hadn't I approached her? It was irrelevant now, but I should've.

_Untouchable. Beautiful but sad. Alone at functions._

I rolled to my other side, trying to think of Astoria, of the first time we'd seen each other after the war. Her parents and mine were there. She was sitting at the opposite end of the table, presented like the perfect pureblood daughter, beautiful and quiet unless someone spoke to her directly. Her father offered up details of her lineage and promised she was still a virgin, even though she was 'mature', at age twenty-one.

Her blonde hair was stick straight, golden in the conservatory light. Smiling coyly at me, I remember feeling like she'd be okay, like we could figure it out. She'd been promised to me a long time ago.

I'd never get what I truly wanted anyway.

Sighing, I tried to shift gears, to think about the runes and the case, longing for anything to take my mind in a different direction. My wife was complicated. My mystery witch — who I was nearly certain was Granger — was complicated, dangerous for me to think about.

If the mystery witch was Granger, there was no way we'd had an affair. We would've been friends at best. I would've been helping her with her parents' memories, trying to repay her for some of the horrid things I'd done to her over the years.

Runes. I focused on runes, their meanings, what I was going to present to Granger if she decided to show up at work today.

If Blaise had let her out of bed.

Rubbing my hands over my eyes, I tried to erase that picture from my mind. I couldn't think about that. I _wouldn't_ think about that.

I rolled over again and tried to close my eyes. But, when I did, I saw here there, her curls splayed across a pillow beside me — the way I used to see her in my fantasies when I was younger.

Finally, after giving up on sleep, I got up and pulled a pair of shorts on, determined to find Astoria and tell her to come to bed.

* * *

Entering the DMLE, I looked around, trying to see if Blaise or Granger was present. I noticed her office door was ajar and assumed she was in there.

When I opened the door, I saw her sitting on her desk, her legs around Zabini's waist, his hands sliding up her thighs, moving the hem of her dress up. I immediately saw the colors Lovegood had used to describe me at the ball — a mix of green and red, jealousy and anger.

After a second, just before Zabini's hand moved between her thighs, I cleared my throat. "You may want to close your door if you're going to fuck in the office," I stated casually.

Granger jumped at my voice, but Blaise didn't. He looked up at me and said, "Why don't you close it for us on your way out, Malfoy?"

Slapping at his chest, she wiggled off the desk. "I'm so sorry, Draco."

"No need to apologise for that." I glanced between them. "I just don't think you want anyone else walking in on it."

Blaise wrapped an arm around her waist possessively. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I've been waiting for Granger to get back for two days. I've needed someone to go over runes with me," I began. "Mel and I put a few things together, but we need you to help us fine tune it."

Flushing with embarrassment, she met my gaze and repeated herself. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll accept that apology," I teased.

Blaise glared. "There is no need for her to apologise. We're entitled to time off."

"Blaise—" she began, but he cut her off.

"No, Hermione, you don't owe him an explanation or an apology or, Merlin, anything at all," he fumed.

Staring at them, my mouth slightly ajar, I finally said, "Mate, calm down. It was a joke."

His jaw clenched.

"Malfoy, of course I'll help you. I'm so sorry—"

Cutting her off again, he said, "There are other runes experts in the Ministry, Malfoy. You didn't _need_ to wait for Granger."

"Blaise! That's enough!" she snapped, pulling away from him. "It is my job to be here, to consult on cases where my expertise is useful. Stop interrupting me and stop acting like a caveman, or you won't be allowed in my office anymore."

I held back a laugh. I loved to see her scolding him, standing up for herself. The Hermione Granger I remembered didn't back down from a man, even one she loved.

Deciding to quit while I was ahead, I said, "We're set up in the conference room a few doors down. When you're ready, we'd love the help, Granger."

"Okay. I just need a few moments."

I turned and walked out, closing the door so she could speak to Blaise. Wondering if I'd ever get a second to talk to her on our own, I sighed. I definitely wouldn't be able to ask her about the bookstore with him around.

When I walked into the conference room, Mel was already sitting at our table. She was picking at a muffin with one hand and furiously making notes with a quill she held in the other. She didn't look up, but she knew I was there.

"Hermione's back, but Blaise was with her, and I, uh—"

"I walked in on them."

Raising her eyes to me, she shuddered. "Were they fully…?"

"Not yet. It was close, though," I said.

"They weren't like this before," Mel began, frustration clear in her tone. "It's like he thinks he's got something to prove now. I don't get it. He just spent the past two days with her in Venice. You can't tell me that they weren't—"

Hermione's entrance cut her off, but I was already thinking about her observations.

Blaise was being territorial, having a one-sided pissing contest with me, trying to show me that she was his.

Which I already knew.

So why?

"Good morning, Mel," she greeted. "I'm sorry to have kept you guys waiting. I didn't know I'd be gone so long. It was a surprise."

Mel gave her a tight smile. "I'll let Draco explain what we've figured out so far."

I handed Granger the chart with all the clusters of runes we'd identified, plus the few we hadn't had luck with. She didn't know what the groupings meant off-hand, but that didn't surprise me. We'd looked through several volumes and knew they weren't commonly used words or phrases.

"And what about the one for invisibility?" Granger asked. "Did you figure out why it's shifting?"

Mel nearly jumped out of her seat. "I think they must be offering certain potions on a schedule. The symbol that's shifting seems to start out with the left-most line facing all the way to the left, approximately between nine and ten if we're talking about an analog clock. Throughout the day, it moves, but never at the same rate, so it's not telling time." Grabbing two photos, Mel handed them off to Granger. "Look at this one. That's four in the afternoon on Monday, and this is from the same time yesterday. It's in completely different positions."

"You're right," she said. "I don't know if your theory is right or not—"

"It has to be. What else could it be?" Mel blurted, her excitement showing. "It's like the petrol gauge in a Muggle car. The needle — or that line — moves as it uses the resources. When it reaches the point that would be considered between two and three, it's safe to say they're out of whatever they're selling that day."

"And have we noticed any Disillusioned people entering the building?" Granger asked.

I shook my head. "No. Not yet, but I'm not convinced this apothecary is where the illicit potions are stored. I think it's a front and that's why no one has been able to make headway."

"So where do you think it is, Malfoy?"

"I think they're hiding it in a home or somewhere outside of London. I just have to find it," I responded. She narrowed her eyes sceptically. "Don't doubt me, Granger. I think I've got an idea of what's going on."

Looking at the list of runes, she said, "Okay. I'll take your word for it." She pointed to a cluster of symbols. "I think I've seen that somewhere before, but I can't remember where."

Mel glanced at her notes. "That was on Tuesday. I was thinking it referred to a potion, but maybe it's a place."

Granger leaned closer, nearly brushing against me. Thinking about the previous day, about how I'd wondered if it had been her perfume, I inhaled through my nose.

Nothing. No discernable scent.

"—may be a potion. I did a lot of research on potions right after the war. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do for a mastery, so I looked at all my options."

I moved closer, peering over her shoulder. "Have you been to any of the other wizarding areas of Britain, Granger?"

Perplexed, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"There are smaller villages, like the one near the Weasleys and Godric's Hollow."

"I've been to Falmouth," she replied. "There's a magical bookshop there that I'm quite fond of. Blaise brought me in January, but I haven't really explored it too much beyond that."

My stomach turned. I knew the shop she was referring to, and I knew she would love it.

_I would've loved to have taken her there._

"Maybe we should do that," I suggested. "I feel like it would be—"

"Holy shite!" Mel exclaimed. "Yes, you need to do that, Draco! Look!"

Granger and I both looked at what she was holding up. It was a page from the case report, a victim statement.

_I heard him muttering about how he'd need to get more when he went to see the Harpies play._

"Somewhere near a Quidditch team's homebase," I said.

Her eyes widening, Granger smiled at me. "Right up your alley, then. I'm sure you've been to all the stadiums in England."

"I have, though not recently."

"I'll call Ginny and ask her which ones have easily accessible shopping districts," Hermione said. "You can start with those."

* * *

An hour later, Granger walked back into the conference room, and I tried not to look at her hips, her legs, her breasts as she moved. We were finally alone together, and I could ask her about the bookstore. I just needed more time with her…

"Ginny says that it's probably best to start in Falmouth. I looked at the date of that statement, and the Harpies were there the following week."

Taking a chance, I said, "I think you should come with me. Help me with the runes if we find any. You're much faster than I am, and it's not going to be an actual raid or anything today."

She chewed her lower lip for a moment. "I suppose I could do that. Let me talk to Blaise."

"You need his permission?"

"Of course not, but he'll need to know I'll be out and about for the afternoon."

Checking my watch, I noticed it was close to eleven, and an idea struck me. "What if we got lunch before heading to Falmouth? Then we could check the runes on the building today and see if we find anything that matches."

_And I could speak to her without fear of Blaise walking in._

"We could send someone else to take a photo—"

"Why don't we just go?" I asked. "It won't be strange for you and I to take a trip to Diagon Alley for lunch."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Please. We'd be photographed the second we stepped foot there."

Shrugging, I said, "So? Hannah mentioned that we used to be friends." I watched her reaction carefully. "Funny how you never did."

"I—We—" Her words faltered, her face blanching. "It… didn't seem appropriate."

"To whom?"

She averted her eyes. "Draco, we—It's not like we were close. We had an occasional lunch as colleagues. We exchanged books. All these things — they were few and far between."

I didn't believe her.

"Won't Astoria be upset if we're seen together? Socially, I mean?"

As the words left her lips, she couldn't seem to stop them, even though she immediately regretted them.

Feigning puzzlement, I looked at her. "Why would she be upset? She knows we work together, Granger."

Hermione froze and alarm bells sounded in my brain. She was hiding something from me.

"She's your wife, Draco. Of course she'd be upset if we were having lunch together. That's in—"

"Inappropriate?" I asked, cutting her off the same way Blaise had earlier. "Well, never mind then, I can ask someone else to work on this with me. Someone more _appropriate_."

Her response was quick. "I didn't mean it like that—"

"It's fine, Granger. Your boyfriend doesn't want you near me. I get it." I gestured to the door. "Go back to your office. I'm sure he's camped out there, waiting for you."

"That's not fair, Malfoy!" she spat.

Glaring at her, I said, "Just go. I'm done trying to be nice to you."

"Draco—"

"Why are you calling me Draco?" I asked, the words just flying out. "You've done it a lot lately. Do you even realise?"

Her cheeks flushed. "I guess I just slipped back into it."

"Because we were friends before?"

Granger swallowed hard. "Yes. Because we were friends before."

Running a hand through my fringe, I said, "We need to talk about a couple of things. I don't want to do it here. That's why I asked you to lunch. I've been finding little pieces of my life from before the accident, and I just… I want to ask you some things."

"Okay. I'll answer whatever you want me to." When she moved towards the door, she added, "But I do need to talk to Blaise first. I'll meet you back here in a few minutes."

* * *

When we sat down at a corner table at the Leaky, tucked away from the other customers, Hannah looked at us like she had seen a ghost. Hermione raised her hand and waved, signalling that we needed her. Hannah held up a finger and finished serving her bar customers.

The silence between us was tense, the feeling nearly palpable. When Hannah came over, one hand resting on her bump, I saw Granger's eyes widen.

"You didn't tell me!"

Hannah smiled. "I haven't seen you. Though I have seen this one—" she gestured to me "—so I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"I was away," Hermione said. "Anyway, we're just popping in for a quick lunch before heading out to do some investigation."

"You don't usually go into the field," Hannah observed. "Everything okay?"

"It's a runes case, so Malfoy needs my brain," she teased, flashing me a smile that I wished I could see every single day.

We placed our order and Hannah bustled away, sending two glasses of Butterbeer over to us. Granger took a sip of hers carefully and then met my eyes.

"So, what did you want to ask me about?"

I shouldn't have been surprised that she was handling this directly, no matter how uncomfortable she had appeared in the office. She'd likely gotten her thoughts sorted out before we'd left.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the book I'd shrunken down and reverted it to its original size. When I set it in front of her, her face paled. She looked up at me again.

"Where did you get this, Draco?"

I started making mental notes.

_Malfoy in front of most other people, Draco when it's just the two of us._

"I got a little… frustrated yesterday," I began. "I went to Diagon Alley and started walking. I had a lot on my mind, and before I knew it, my feet had carried me to this bookstore in Knockturn Alley, one my father used to take me to when I was younger. Do you know the shop I'm talking about?"

She nodded, but she didn't speak, likely waiting for me to reveal what I already knew to her.

"Well, the clerk had this book on hold for me. Apparently he's had it since before I had my accident. Strange, don't you think? That I'd need a book on the Muggle mind?"

Shaking her head, she said, "No. It's not strange that you'd ordered that book at all. You were—"

"—helping you with your parents. I know. I managed to put that together when he said that I often met a witch there, one that was definitely not my wife."

"My parents?" she whispered. "How do you know about my parents?"

"Why wouldn't I know about them?" I asked.

Granger didn't respond and I could see her thoughts whirring. She was definitely hiding something.

"I remembered an article from the newspaper, from after the war. It said you'd Obliviated them to save them."

Finally, she exhaled, her relief evident. "I did."

I felt my face fall into a frown. "Why didn't you ask me to keep helping you after the accident? I'm sure we could've worked through it."

"Your father wouldn't have let me in the Manor, Draco. And, on top of that, how was I supposed to ask you to help fix their memories when you didn't even have your own?"

Her response made sense, but it didn't sit well with me. I didn't like that she'd just let our friendship, or partnership, or whatever it had been, go so easily.

"Okay, I can understand that," I said, turning the Butterbeer glass around and around with my fingers. "But why wouldn't you still treat me like a friend when we ran into each other? Or even now that I'm back at work?"

Watching her closely, I noticed the gooseflesh rising on her arms, the subtle way she was trying to hide her emotions.

"I… It's complicated," she stated. "Astoria didn't really approve of our friendship, and Blaise… I'm sure he won't really like it, either. I thought it would just be easier on all of us if you didn't realise we'd had one."

"I'm still not sure why Blaise fucking hates me but turns up for birthdays and other events like nothing's changed."

"It's… a lot of things. You should talk to him about it."

With a snort of laughter, I said, "Not bloody likely. I'm not the one who's had my knickers in a twist. If he wants to talk to me, I'll gladly try to mend fences for whatever I did. But I honestly have no fucking clue — which all of you know — and it feels like everyone is constantly hiding something."

To my surprise, she reached out and touched my hand, her palm resting on my skin. I felt the same spark I had on Monday. "I'm sorry, Draco, but you and Blaise are both stubborn. You need to work this out, and I certainly can't get in the middle of it."

I looked her in the eyes, noticing how her lips were painted red and her eyelashes were even longer and darker than usual, coated in makeup. Not that she needed it. The longer I focused on her, the more her breathing changed, mirroring mine.

And then Hannah came over, breaking the trance. Hermione yanked her hand away like she'd been burned and focused on her friend, happily accepting her lunch and the out she'd been given.

I, on the other hand, just had more questions.

* * *

The rest of our lunch passed uneventfully, though Granger seemed less open with me than she'd been before Hannah's interruption.

From there, we headed to Falmouth, walking up and down the wizarding streets and examining any symbol we came across. The silence was almost comfortable, though I suspected she was waiting for me to ask her more questions.

One popped into my mind. "Did you help me buy Christmas presents for Astoria the first year we were married?"

Granger nearly tripped over her own feet and I caught her, my arm quickly wrapping around her waist. She looked up at me, her eyes moving from my eyes down to my lips quickly, like she thought I would kiss her.

Like she wanted me to kiss her.

"Thank you," she said, her breath brushing against my cheek before she found her footing and put distance back between us. "I, um, I may have given you suggestions on Muggle shops. I didn't go with you."

"I actually know that," I replied. "I can remember doing the shopping on my own. I bought some Muggle perfume, a dress, and a necklace."

Hermione didn't look over at me again, just nodded and kept walking. "Sounds lovely."

"She hated two out of the three," I added. "Merlin, for the life of me, it seems like she hates everything about me sometimes."

That got her attention.

"What do you mean?" she asked, nervously chewing on her lip.

I took a deep breath. "She didn't want me to come back to work. She's angry that I don't want to have another baby—"

"You don't want another baby?" Granger interjected, sounding surprised. "You said you wanted more than one."

Looking over at her, I frowned. "I did? When?"

"When she was pregnant with Scorpius," she added quickly. "You said that it was hard to be an only child."

_Maybe in another life… One where I felt like I had something real with the witch…_

"I just can't imagine it," I told her. "I can't imagine going through another pregnancy with Astoria. I mean, I only remember a few months of the first one fully, but she was miserable. She acted like I'd never touched her before when clearly that wasn't true."

"Clearly," Granger agreed.

"What about you?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation moving. "How many little ones do you want?"

She laughed, but it didn't sound like her normal happy chuckle. It sounded nervous, bordering on hysteric. "I guess that depends on how old I am when it's finally time for me to start."

"Let's say you got married next year," I said, bumping her shoulder, trying to make it seem good-natured, even though I was sick with jealousy. "How many little Zabinis would Hogwarts see?"

She shrugged. "Two. Maybe three, if it really felt right, like we needed just one more."

Despite the jealousy, it felt wonderful connecting with her. Even just talking to her about a silly hypothetical future, there was a contentment settling over me, like we'd done it before.

And maybe we had. I would never know.

"So you think I should have more?"

"Of course not. That's entirely up to you and Astoria," she said, but Astoria's name came out in a slightly different tone. "But don't have another just because she wants to, Draco. It needs to be something you decide together this time around."

How much did she know about my life before the accident?

"Astoria did mention we hadn't been trying for Scorpius, but everything seems to have worked out okay there."

Hermione didn't respond at all. Her eyes were still scanning the stonework around the doors, looking for tell-tale runes. She stopped in front of one, her finger tracing a carving.

"Jera," she said, looking to me. "Cycles. Everything returns to the same point."

I cleared my throat. "That's usually true… Do you think this is the place? A lot of potions are brewed on a cycle. And they probably rotate them regularly."

Granger turned her face away, but I noticed the way she squeezed her eyes shut beforehand. "It could be. We can send someone to stake it out tomorrow morning."

"You'll be in the office tomorrow?" I asked.

Nodding, she said, "I will be. For the foreseeable future."

"And Blaise?"

As she turned to me, she said, "I'll be keeping him out of my office after this morning."

"I have a book on Irani rune modification for protective wards. And I guess since we're friends…"

She laughed. "Bring it in the morning. We can see if we can make sense of anything. Italy is wrapped up, so I'm pretty much clear to help you, Draco."

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze.

While she looked surprised, she didn't pull away, and when I released her, she gave me a little smile.

Neither of us noticed the camera that flashed behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffy! Two weeks in a row, I know!
> 
> I know my responses are a lot shorter and coming later. My new job has changed my life a lot, and I'm struggling to balance working, writing, betaing, and answering comments. Just know that I read every word and appreciate every single thought you guys leave for me.
> 
> Always feel free to reach out on Facebook (K.N. PotionChemist) or Tumblr (potionchemist)
> 
> See you next week!


	29. Hermione, 14-15th June 2007

As soon as I returned from Falmouth, I found Blaise in my office, sitting in a chair in front of my desk. He was sulking, a frown spanning his face. The minute I stepped through the door, he looked up at me expectantly.

Before I'd left, I told him that I needed to finish this case with Draco without his interference. I reminded him of who I was — of who the world thought I was— and explained that I wouldn't suddenly let a man start controlling my life. Of course, I'd been met with stony silence and a sharp nod of his head.

I saw things from his perspective, as well. He was worried that I would fall back into old patterns with Draco, but I told myself I wouldn't. I couldn't let it happen.

Draco had been so earnest when he'd enquired about my parents, about why I hadn't asked him to continue helping, and I had nearly burst into tears. I had to scramble and make something up on the spot; Lucius and Astoria seemed like the natural scapegoats. After I'd thrown Blaise in there as well, his confusion about Blaise's attitude had been evident.

I'd touched his hand, stared into his eyes, and I'd started to breathe the same way he was, the way I always used to. My body was so attuned to his that it just happened automatically. It was natural for our hearts to beat to the same rhythm, for our lungs to share the air between us, inhaling and exhaling at the same time.

And then I thought about the way Draco had wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me while we were walking, the way I'd leaned into him and savoured it.

Would I really have a choice in the matter? Or would the old patterns just emerge on their own?

Realising I'd been standing there lost in my own thoughts, I glanced over at Blaise. He was visibly upset, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him in the office.

"Are you okay?" I asked, even though he clearly wasn't.

"Hermione, this is killing me," he replied. "Watching you walk out the door with him… I don't know if I can do it, even for work."

My heart seized in my chest. I stepped in front of his chair so we were facing each other and set my hands on his shoulders. "Listen, I am invested in this case, Blaise. He actually does need my help, and I know you know that. And I know this is hard for you, but you and I are together. I don't want to start things with him again. You know that."

"Tesoro, I know you loved him and that we started things up quickly. I know you probably needed more time. I just… I can't forget what you two were like together, and it's completely different from the way you and I are—"

I leaned down and kissed him, interrupting his rambling, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him.

When he broke the kiss, he looked up into my eyes and I could see his anguish, the way that I was hurting him. "Let's go home and talk about this privately," I said. "There's a lot to discuss, and I really don't think this is the best place for it."

"To mine?" he asked.

Nodding, I moved to the other side of my desk, collecting all my things so I could bring them with us. "We're at yours nine times out of ten, Blaise. Of course that's home."

He smiled, rising to his feet. "Good. When we get home, I'll Floo call Sara for some takeaway? I'm sure she wouldn't mind popping it over to us."

"That sounds good. Whatever she wants to send is fine with me," I replied, linking my arm with his and heading for the door.

He pulled me closer and slung his arm around my shoulders — the same way Draco had earlier — and I felt myself making comparisons again. Draco was taller and his arm fully enveloped me. Blaise smelled amazing, like the cologne he favoured, and radiated heat that warmed me, that made me want to melt into him.

In my head, I tried to tell myself there was only one comparison that really mattered.

Draco was married and Blaise only wanted me.

Even if it was clear that Draco was still drawn to me, I'd end up right back where I was if I didn't stay away from him. That much was obvious.

I resolved to finish this potioneer case with him and then make some changes in my life.

* * *

When we got home, I changed into pyjamas and settled myself on the sofa while Blaise took care of arranging dinner for us. As soon as he saw me tucked into the corner, a blanket covering my legs, he smiled.

"Want anything? Tea? Water?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, but you should join me," I said, patting the cushion beside me.

He sat next to me and pulled my legs over his lap. "So how did today go?"

Shrugging, I started talking, telling him about everything Draco and I had discussed.

"So he knows there was at least some type of relationship between you before?" he asked after hearing about the book Draco had picked up.

"He does, though he seems to think he was just helping me with my parents," I replied, running a hand through my hair. "I can't believe he even remembered that I Obliviated them. There was one story in _The Daily Prophet_ right after the war. It didn't give a lot of detail."

My anxiety was flaring up; thinking about Draco and what else he could possibly find out was something that made me feel sick to my stomach. I'd been hiding so much for so long, keeping him closed out of my life, and now it was all coming back to bite me. The feelings I'd suppressed, the memories I'd tried so hard to bury in the back of my mind…

Blaise's hands massaged my calves in the way I adored, drawing my attention back to him.

"He's always had a thing for you. I'm sure he remembers a lot more than you actually know," Blaise said, his tone a bit surly. "I mean, he likely won't admit it, but you've always been his ideal."

I knew this already; Draco had told me many times that he'd always wanted me. Blaise underestimated the amount of open conversation there had been between us over the course of the affair.

"But, regardless of all that, how did he act? How did he treat you?"

I sighed. "He was upset that I didn't tell him we were friends before the accident. Other than that, he seemed fine with everything. It wasn't exactly comfortable, so I tried to move things along to the best of my ability."

"Oh, Tesoro, I'm so sorry," he began. "I'm sorry I've been making this more difficult for you. I promise that I'll try to be better."

"And I promise you that I'll keep things professional with him. It's going to be awkward if he keeps asking questions and trying to go back to being friends, but I won't cross that line," I stated.

There were other words dancing in my mind, words that I'd not yet said to him. I knew he needed to hear them, that he wanted me to finally say them.

And I knew I felt them.

I loved Blaise, but I still couldn't make myself say it aloud. I had no idea why, but the idea of putting it all out there just terrified me, like there was no coming back from it. Once I told him, my fate would be sealed. He'd likely start shopping for a ring and dreaming about all the little Zabinis he wanted to have.

I still wasn't ready for that.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" he asked, pulling me from my thoughts and squashing the potential 'I love you' that lingered on my tongue.

"Well, Draco has a book he picked up. One on Irani rune translations. We were going to go through that and try to figure out the modifications," I explained.

I heard Blaise swallow, his throat likely thickening with unsaid words. He was holding back his feelings on the matter to keep me happy.

"Okay. Did you find any leads in Falmouth today?"

"Maybe," I began. "We're not really sure yet. We found a marking beside a door, but it was just Jera. It wasn't anything unique. Draco thinks it may be something because many potions are brewed in cycles."

"Do you think it would really be that simple?"

"It could be. Sometimes the simplest things can be overlooked, especially if you want them to be." I thought for a moment. "I think the answer is likely in Falmouth somewhere, even if it's not necessarily the building we came across today. That one witness account seemed pretty reliable, and the dates and times match up."

"I'm assuming you're sending someone there to watch the place tomorrow?" Blaise asked.

Nodding, I replied, "Yeah. It has to be someone who's good at spotting Disillusionment Charms and anomalies that Invisibility Cloaks can cause."

"I'll go," he offered. "I'm free now that Italy's done with, and then I won't be tempted to keep checking in on you and Draco all day."

Slowly, I scooted closer to him, and he lifted me up into his lap, kissing me softly.

"I'm trying, Hermione," he whispered. "If it was anyone but him, I swear I wouldn't be like this. I don't want to lose you."

"And I don't want to lose you," I admitted.

Those words were easy to say since they were absolutely true. I didn't want to lose Blaise. Over the past three years, he'd become a huge part of my life, taking care of me when no one else realised I was suffering.

Shifting, I straddled his hips and pressed my lips to his. His hands slid up the back of my shirt, rubbing along my spine. When he used his fingernails instead, I shivered.

"How much time do we have?" I asked.

He smirked. "At least an hour."

"I can work with that," I said, grinding my core against him.

His hands dropped to my arse, gripping it tightly as he stood. "Let's go to the bedroom just in case Sara's early."

"Sounds like a plan," I murmured, my lips falling on his neck.

Sex definitely wasn't the answer to our problems, but it certainly helped us reconnect, helped me focus on him and forget Draco for a little while.

* * *

The next morning, all hell broke loose.

While I was in the shower, _The Daily Prophet_ arrived, the same way it did every single day. However, today, Blaise decided to open it before work, rather than waiting until the evening to read through it.

As soon as I walked into the kitchen, I noticed his scowl. He was looking down at the paper and I asked, "What are you reading?"

His head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at me. "What the fuck is this?" he asked, gesturing to the paper.

My hackles rose immediately and I quickly moved to the table, looking down at the paper. When I saw what he was upset about, I sucked in a breath.

Draco and I had been followed yesterday, and we hadn't even realised it.

In the centre of the page, there was a wizarding photo taken at the exact moment Draco had looped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight. There were a few smaller ones, as well — one taken when I'd stopped in front of the building marked with the Jera rune, another when I'd stumbled and he caught me, my eyes darting to his lips while he held me.

I felt myself tremble, tears filling my eyes and blurring the room.

"Yeah, stunned silence was my initial reaction," Blaise said, interrupting my thoughts. "Why is he touching you, Hermione? And how is it possible that you didn't even notice someone was following you?"

"Blaise, this isn't what it looks like—"

"It is!" he shouted, losing his temper. He pointed to the picture where I was looking at Draco's lips. "I've seen that look on your face a hundred fucking times, Hermione. You wanted to kiss him! Or you wanted him to kiss you because then you could blame it all on him!"

I grabbed his arm and he yanked it away. "Please, Blaise, let me explain—"

"No," he snapped. "What haven't I done for you? What does he have that I don't?"

"Nothing!" I cried. "It was nothing! Old habits, or memories, or something. I told you what we talked about at lunch. It was on my mind—"

"It's always on your mind! You've been changing since before he even came back to work. Do you think I'm stupid and haven't noticed?"

Something inside of me finally snapped. I got angry, feeling the fire that had been absent from my life for well over a year now. "You _knew_ this wouldn't be easy for me!" I snarled. "Of course I've been different! I'm so fucking scared that he's going to realise what I've done to him that I can barely even think straight."

"For Salazar's sake, Granger—"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Why? You let Draco call you Granger. You let Pansy call you Granger. Why am I any different?"

"Because you've _never_ called me Granger until Draco came back to work, _Zabini_! Do you think _you_ haven't changed at all since he's been back?" I asked rhetorically. "Because you have! You smother me. You're so worried that I'm going to slip back into old patterns that it's all I can think about!"

Blaise rose and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's hard not to worry when you look at him like a lovesick sixth year! I might as well call you Lavender Brown."

I didn't bother responding, not wanting to continue the argument that was going nowhere. I walked past him and into the kitchen, grabbing my handbag off the counter and moving towards the Floo. He caught my arm and spun me around.

"We need to talk!"

I shook my head. "Absolutely not. We need to get to work."

"So you can see him?" he questioned, his voice low and dangerous.

Since I was feeling particularly nasty, I said, "Yes. That's exactly why. I need to get to work so we have time to fuck—"

Blaise cut me off by crashing his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snarled, wiping at my mouth. "I do _not_ want to kiss you! You're not the man I fell for, not when you treat me like this."

His face fell and he saw the angry tears filling my eyes.

"Hermione, I'm—"

Shaking my head, I interrupted him. "Don't you dare, Blaise. I don't want to hear your fake apologies, not now."

"Tesoro—"

I scoffed and yanked my arm away. "Honestly, do you think some silly little pet name is going to fix everything you just said?"

"Everything that _I said_? What about the things that you've _done_? You're spending time with—"

"I've been _working_ with him! Not spending time with him!"

He looked down at me. "It's both, and I don't like it. It's not good for you, Hermione. It's not good for us. We were happy before he came back."

Swallowing hard, I thought about what Blaise was saying. We had been happy before — or I thought we had been. Since April, I'd been hiding things — encounters, emotions, my thoughts — and it was likely causing Blaise's jealousy.

"That doesn't make your behaviour right," I said quietly. "The way you just attacked me…"

"I love you, Hermione. I've told you over and over again. Do you even realise you've not said it back to me once?" When my lips moved to speak, he held his hand up. "Don't you dare say it now or make excuses. I just need you to know where I'm coming from. I _love_ you. I've been there for you whenever you've needed me, and I can feel you slipping away. I don't want to lose you."

"You're pushing me away," I told him, even though I knew I was doing the same. "You say you love me, but you don't trust me. You apologise and then you fly off the handle. You're mad that I'm working a case with Draco, but it's my _job_."

Blaise just stared, not knowing how to handle me.

"I'm going to work. I'm going to stay at my house for a few days, and I need you to give me space," I stated. "Please just give me the time I need to sort my thoughts out."

"Hermione, please don't do this," he pleaded. "Don't run from what this is. We're good together."

"I'm not running. I'm taking one step back. I think we both need it."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but I didn't give him the chance. Quickly, I turned towards the Floo and left his flat, the image of his watery eyes burned into my brain. 

* * *

When I walked into the department alone, Draco's eyes followed me in confusion. Immediately closing the door, I threw my handbag down and slumped in my chair.

I'd not even had coffee that morning, and I could feel a headache coming on. Pressing my fingers into my temples, I massaged myself, desperately trying to forget that I'd just started my day with an argument I'd never expected to have with Blaise. And, on top of that, the whole wizarding world — including Lucius and Astoria — would see the photos in the newspaper.

Feeling certain everything was about to come crashing down on me, I struggled to calm myself. I was on the verge of a breakdown now that my anger had started to fade. As I took deep breaths, I prayed that Blaise would be rational and do what I'd asked him to. If I sent him out to Falmouth, he'd be gone most of the day and that would give me time to process what had happened this morning.

An hour later, there was a knock on my door and I wasn't surprised when Draco walked in. He looked almost as frustrated as I felt.

"Granger, who are we sending to Falmouth?" he asked.

I looked up at him and noticed his attire. He was wearing Muggle clothing again, the way he had before. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his trousers sat lower on his hips. The grey shirt he was wearing nearly matched the color of his eyes, and I was almost certain that I'd bought it for him years ago.

"Blaise actually offered to go," I said, forcing words out of my mouth. I was still upset with him, but he was suited for this task. "I mentioned last night that we'd need someone who was good at spotting Disillusionment Charms and Invisibility Cloaks, and he definitely fits that bill."

Scowling, he said, "What? Is your pillow talk normally about work?"

My hands automatically went to my hips since I was still on edge from my argument with Blaise. "No, but our dinner conversation often involves what we did all day, especially when we've been apart for most of it. It's what normal couples do. Do you not have that with your _wife_?"

He didn't take the bait. "And you trust him to handle this properly?"

"Of course I do!" I snapped. "Why wouldn't I?"

"If you haven't noticed, he really doesn't like me, and this is my case," Draco stated.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Seriously? Do you honestly think Blaise would just let someone get away with a crime just to spite you?"

"It's pretty obvious he doesn't want me around."

Just then, Mel joined us. "Good morning," she greeted with a smile. "Blaise said he's going to Falmouth to stake out the potential location. Is it okay if I go with him, Hermione?"

Looking from her to Draco, I replied, "Absolutely. I'm sure that Draco trusts you and Blaise to handle things on that end."

Draco smiled at her, turning on the charm. "I'd love it if you were still involved. You can be my eyes and ears on the ground, Mel."

"Great," she said. "I'll put a field kit together. You're not coming, Draco?"

He shook his head. "No. Granger and I were apparently spotted there yesterday, and I don't want it to seem like more than it was. It'll be better to send new faces there today."

With a nod, she turned and walked out of my office. Immediately, Draco started talking again. "I wouldn't have agreed to this if she wasn't going. She doesn't like the way Blaise has been acting since I've been back — especially in regards to you."

I could hear his anger and his brow was creased.

"Why are you in such a bad mood this morning, Malfoy?" I asked, trying to redirect his focus.

He scoffed. "As soon as your boyfriend walked through the doors, he pulled me out of the department. Don't act like you don't know about it, Granger." Meeting my eyes, he continued, "If you didn't want me around, you should've just told me yourself. I don't know why you needed him to do it for you."

"I didn't," I began, his words making no sense. "I told him… It doesn't matter, actually. He was mad about the picture in the paper this morning. I never would've asked him to talk to you, Draco."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what to believe when it comes to you. Honestly, I'm just lost whenever I try to think of you."

Feeling my emotions rising to the surface again, I tried to steady my breathing. "I… I know Astoria is going to be upset with you when she sees that photo, so I'm sorry in advance."

Draco made eye contact with me. "Why, Granger? Why would us walking through Falmouth working on a case upset her?"

We were in dangerous territory, and I knew it. I turned my head, unable to look him in the eyes when I lied again.

"She hates me," I responded. "She has said things to me… And I don't know if they're true or not, but she hates me. I don't think it'll be any better now that I'm with Blaise."

I heard him stepping closer, moving towards me like I was a skittish animal. When he reached out and grabbed my shoulder, he said, "Look at me."

With a deep breath, I turned back to him.

"I don't care if she hates you. We work together. We were friends before. It doesn't… Now that I know, it doesn't feel right to act like there was nothing there."

He was breaking me. My insides were in knots, my heart was racing, and I wanted to confess everything I'd done. I wanted him to hate me so that I wouldn't have to endure this type of conversation on a regular basis.

I wanted him to know how horrible we'd been to each other, how horrible we'd been _for_ each other.

This magnetic pull between us hadn't faded, and I could feel it trying to draw us back in. I couldn't let it.

"Books and a few lunches, Draco. And you felt guilty, so you were trying to help me with my parents' memories. I… You shouldn't upset your wife on my account," I said quietly. "I want you to be happy."

When his face froze, I thought he was remembering something again, but there was no way he could've been. He released me and took a step back. I could still feel the imprint of his fingertips on my skin, the warmth that he'd left behind quickly fading into nothing. "You know, Blaise said you'd say that, Granger. You want me to be happy. It struck me as odd, though."

_Why would he…?_

"But it seems he knows you well," he finished, a tone of bitterness lacing his voice. "You know, I would've been ecstatic to be your friend when we were younger, but apparently you've never felt the same."

"Draco—"

"Just don't. If you want to keep lying to me — and lying to yourself — to keep Blaise happy, that's fine. I don't need you in my life if you're not the person I thought you were," he said, moving towards my door.

As much as I wanted to call out to him, to make him come back and talk to me, I knew I couldn't.

This was for the best.

He had a son and a wife.

I had Blaise.

He didn't know what we were missing.

He wasn't living with the memory of me, not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's short. We're going to be tackling three POVs all on the 15th, and there's no good way to combine them.
> 
> We'll see Astoria next chapter. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading and leaving such wonderful feedback. As soon as I hit post, I'll be responding to the comments I haven't gotten to yet.


	30. Astoria - 15th June 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!

When I opened _The Daily Prophet_ , I planned to skim the advertisements and see if any pressing stories had been published, wanting to stay up to date on what potential cases Draco could be assigned to. As I turned the pages, I had a strange foreboding feeling in my chest, and I wasn't sure why.

However, when I reached page nine, my heart stopped.

I watched as Draco walked through Falmouth with Hermione Granger, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly. I watched as she tripped and he caught her, her eyes darting to his lips like they probably had thousands of times before. I watched as she examined a rune carved into a building and he stood close beside her, his eyes on her face, not the symbol.

It felt exactly the same as looking at the photos my private investigator had given me the first time around.

They were there in full color, completely attuned to each other's movements, the desire blooming between them the same way it had years ago. Once again, they were in their own little world together, and Blaise and I were on the outside looking in.

My life was on course to repeat itself, the issues I'd faced two years ago resurfacing. I looked to Scorpius — my innocent son — sitting on the floor playing with his toys. He wasn't even two years old yet, and I was already losing his father to Hermione Granger again.

My thoughts from Christmas resurfaced — I would either be enough, or I wouldn't.

I had never been enough for him.

I would never be enough.

The self-blame started over. I should've put my foot down and told him that I would leave if he went back to the DMLE. If he hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been working alongside her. And that's what was causing these feelings — forced proximity. He wasn't thinking of her during the months he was home with me, save the rare occasion she turned up in the paper or at a function.

However, it seemed she was now constantly on his mind.

As much as I didn't want to admit that I was losing control of the situation again, I knew I couldn't handle this on my own. Just like I had two years ago, I decided to go to Lucius. I needed his help. I needed his advice.

How could I hold on to Draco without repeating what I'd done in the past? He didn't want more children, and if I got pregnant again, he'd know it was intentional. I'd been begging for it for almost a year.

Quickly, I grabbed Scorpius and went upstairs to get ready for the day. I wasn't sure how long Draco would be at work, and I needed time to speak with Lucius and Narcissa.

"Scorp, you and Mummy have a lot to figure out today," I said, and he looked up at me, his grey-blue eyes wide. "We're going to see your grandparents and I'm sure some of the house-elves will be so excited to see you."

As I reached for him, he smiled and laughed, melting away some of my bad mood. I couldn't imagine Draco finding some torrid affair with Hermione more important than his son this time around, but I didn't want to wait and find out if he would choose us or not.

* * *

When I stepped through the Floo at Malfoy Manor, Lucius and Narcissa came down the stairs to greet me. I didn't even know what to say to them, but fortunately, they already knew why I was there.

"They're finding their way back together," Lucius began. "How is this happening all over again?"

I felt the tears in my eyes, but when I looked to Narcissa, she was unfazed, like she'd been expecting this to happen all along.

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "I don't know. I've been doing everything I can to keep his focus on me. But he's in the Ministry with her every single day. I can't control that."

Narcissa looked like she was going to say something, but remained quiet.

"We need to get her out of there," Lucius mused aloud. "We need her to take a job in a different department at the very least, if not somewhere outside of the Ministry."

I knew he was grasping at straws. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had worked together since the end of the war. I couldn't see them willingly splitting up, and even if they did, I wasn't sure it would matter. Draco seemed to be inexplicably drawn to her, a moth to the flame. And her flame appeared to be everlasting, continuously brighter than any other.

"You will not force that woman to uproot her life again, Lucius," Narcissa stated firmly. "You've meddled with them enough, don't you think?"

"Narcissa, if he finds out about the first time—"

"Then he finds out, Lucius. Enough is enough!" Turning towards me, she said, "Do you really want to keep doing this, Astoria? Do you really want to hold him hostage?"

When I didn't answer, she continued. "You're young, darling. There are still plenty of opportunities for you to fall in love properly. Draco wouldn't keep Scorpius from you. The world is changing, and divorce—"

"There has never been a divorce in the Malfoy line!" Lucius shouted.

Narcissa whipped around, facing him again. "If you meddle with Draco's mind or force Hermione to quit her job, there will likely be TWO divorces in the Malfoy line. Don't even think about testing me. You will not like the outcome."

As I watched Lucius cower at the thought of losing his wife, I realised that I wanted a man like that, one who loved me so much he couldn't bear the thought of losing me. A husband that would choose me above all other things.

Draco would never be that man, not for me. Hell, I wasn't even sure if he would be that man for Hermione since he'd stayed married to me even after he had her.

Maybe it wasn't me at all. Maybe he just couldn't commit to anyone. While I felt mildly better if that was the case, it still didn't salvage the marriage. I just had to decide if I wanted to fight for Draco or not. Did I really want to spend my life constantly worrying about whether or not he'd remain faithful?

"Can we get an elf to take Scorpius for a bit? I… need to get out. I need to think about all of this."

Narcissa gave me a sympathetic smile. "Do you want company?"

I shook my head. "No. I think I need to be alone for a while."

"Then I'll take him. It's not a bother to care for my grandson."

Holding back the tears that were still building in my eyes, I handed Scorpius over. He was ecstatic, knowing that his grandmother would spoil him rotten and he'd be able to get away with everything. Lucius watched me, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure me out.

"I'll be back in a few hours," I said, turning towards the Floo.

"Astoria," Lucius called, making me look back at him. "Decide what you want. If you want Draco, then fight for him. If you don't, then let him go."

"And if I let him go?" I asked. "Will you tell him everything?"

Lucius shook his head. "I won't, but I can't guarantee that Hermione won't if he takes up with her again. I'm sure the guilt is eating her alive, just like it is for me."

* * *

As I walked through Diagon Alley, I mindlessly looked in the shop windows, never seeing anything that made me want to go in. My mind was spinning, considering what I wanted for my life. I knew I wanted Scorpius to have two loving parents, but did they have to be _married_ , loving parents?

I wasn't sure. It certainly seemed to make things easier.

And if Draco found out about the Obliviation, would he try to keep Scorpius away from me?

What I'd done was wrong. I knew Narcissa said he wouldn't, but he might react drastically if he knew the whole story.

Especially about the fertility potion, about how I'd planned to trap him. And how when that hadn't worked, I'd gone to Lucius and everything had escalated from there.

Draco had lost his memories and his freewill. He'd lost the woman he'd loved since he was a teenager.

And I'd gained everything — my son, the attention of my husband, and kept my access to the Malfoy fortune.

I sighed, running my fingers along the buildings I was walking beside. As I started to think about what Narcissa had said — that I was young and had plenty of time to fall in love properly — someone called my name.

My head snapped up and I saw Theo Nott coming my way.

"Mrs. Malfoy," he greeted, a charming smile on his face. "It's been years. How are you?"

Theo and Draco hadn't been close after the war, but they'd spent time together at Hogwarts. I'd noticed him when I was keeping my eyes on Draco in my younger years.

"Yes, it's been quite a while. I'm doing well, Theo," I began. "How have you been?"

His smile never faltered. "I've been great. Did you hear I opened a nightclub last fall? It's become quite the place."

His words struck me as odd, but I shrugged it off. "I did. I saw an article in the paper. Congratulations."

"Thank you," he replied. "I was surprised that you and Draco haven't come by at all."

Unable to figure out where this conversation was going, I stated the obvious. "We have a baby. We haven't really been going out anywhere."

Waving my weak excuse off, he said, "Plenty of couples who come in have babies. Everyone needs a night off once in a while."

"I don't think it would really be Draco's scene."

Not that I knew what Draco's scene was; we'd not dated long enough for me to learn those little nuances, and he'd spent all his free time with Hermione after we were married.

Theo laughed. "Then get dressed up and have a girl's night out. Bring Daph, I'm sure Michael won't mind it. I haven't seen her in an age, either. Not since Pansy shacked up with the Chosen One."

My sister and Pansy had been thick as thieves before Harry Potter had whisked her away into wedded bliss. They'd been out on the town every weekend, and I was sure that Theo had hung around with them.

"You know, that sounds like a great idea, and I'm sure I can persuade a few others," I replied, smiling at him brightly. "Can I assume you'll see to it that we're well taken care of?"

He stepped closer. "I will personally make sure you want for nothing."

I wasn't sure if his words were meant to be innuendo, but I felt my cheeks heat.

"I'll see about next weekend, then."

When he opened his arms to me, I tentatively approached him and hugged him.

"I hope to see you soon, Astoria."

As he walked away, I watched him, his movements so confident and fluid. Before he disappeared around the corner, he looked back at me and grinned again.

Was this what Narcissa had meant? That if I actually left the house and tried to meet someone, it would be easy for me?

I doubted she had a man like Theo Nott in mind, but he could be a bit of fun if I left Draco, someone to pass the time with before I tried to find something serious again.

Checking my watch, I knew Daphne would still be at work. She hadn't given up her job after meeting Michael. In fact, she'd taken a promotion heading up international relations with Spain, and my parents had forgiven her for breaking her marriage contract long ago.

They were proud to have such a _successful_ daughter.

The very thought made me roll my eyes. After the way they'd treated her, I didn't ever question whether I'd marry Draco or not. I didn't want to be disowned by them or treated like I was nothing but a burden.

Deciding I'd try to bring Daphne lunch, I headed to The Leaky Cauldron, my heels clicking along the stone walkway.

When I walked through the door, Hannah Abbott — or Longbottom — looked at me and smiled. "Mrs. Malfoy. How are you today?"

"I'm well, thank you. I was wondering if I could get some takeaway lunch for Daphne and myself?"

She nodded. "Any special requests?"

"No, we're not all that fussy. Whatever your special is, I'll take two." Pausing, I thought for a moment. If Draco knew about the photos in the paper already, this would be the perfect opportunity for me to visit him and remain calm. "And something to take to Draco, as well, if I'm going to the Ministry."

If Hermione saw me unaffected by whatever their little walk through Falmouth was, I was sure it would drive her crazy.

"Fine by me. I'll get something together for him," Hannah replied. "Want a glass of wine or anything while you wait?"

"Actually, that would be wonderful. I'll just take a seat here at the bar and have a glass of your preferred red."

"Coming right up," she said, summoning a glass with her hand. Once she'd filled it, she handed it to me. "I'm going to pop into the kitchens. I'll be back with your food in just a moment."

"Thank you."

As I sipped my wine, a few scenarios played out in my mind. Draco would come up to me, completely apologetic, and I'd wave it off like it hadn't bothered me at all. I'd run into Hermione and just smile and move past her, seemingly unaffected. Or, when I walked into the DMLE, I might find them holed up in her office together.

I sighed, spinning my wine glass, twirling the stem between my fingers.

Or it wouldn't matter at all because Hermione was with Blaise. Maybe she loved him and I was overreacting. There could be nothing but friendship and professional camaraderie between her and Draco.

All of my senses doubted it, though. He'd been different since he went back to work. While we were still having regular sex, he seemed more distant than before, and I always wondered if he was thinking of her when he was inside of me.

Seeing a copy of the newspaper sitting on the bar, I summoned it and opened it up to the page with the photos again. I tried to forget about their history when I looked at it, tried to disconnect my emotions from it, but that was nearly impossible.

I knew I wasn't crazy — she was staring at Draco's lips in one, his eyes were hungrily taking in her face in another, and when he gave her that side hug, she leaned into him.

I could imagine them doing it a thousand times before, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Simple touches like those still felt uncomfortable between Draco and I sometimes, and I didn't know why. If it was so easy for him to touch her that way, what made him hesitate with me? Yes, he'd fuck me whatever way he liked once we got started, but that was the only time that the physical contact didn't feel… forced between us.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't even hear Hannah come back. When she saw what I was looking at, she bit her lip, like she was debating telling me something. I was embarrassed that she caught me ogling my husband out with another woman, but I couldn't help myself.

Looking up at her, I asked, "Why don't you say whatever it is that's on your mind?"

"They were here before they went to Falmouth," she began. "It's really not what it looks like—"

"It is," I replied. "He's in love with her. Has been for years. There's no need to lie about it."

When she looked away, I realised she already knew that. She had just been trying to comfort me. As I gulped down the final ounce of my wine, I reached into my handbag, withdrawing my coin purse. I took several Galleons out and laid them on the bar.

"Does that cover what I owe you?"

Hannah nodded. "Of course. That's more than enough."

Holding out my hand for the bag, I looked her in the eyes. "Whatever it is you know, I already know about it. I knew about it for over a year before his accident. No need to feel awkward, Mrs. Longbottom." She handed me the bag and my eyes flicked down to her baby bump. "And congratulations to you and the professor. Being a parent has been the best thing in my life."

"Mrs. Malfoy—"

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm not concerned about it. Just keep your silence. He doesn't know about their relationship before."

"Right. Well, I was only going to say that he's mentioned that he loves being a parent, too," she said meekly. "I would never say anything else."

"Do have a good day," I replied, walking towards the Floo and heading to the Ministry.

* * *

Deciding to tackle Draco first, I headed to the DMLE. As I was walking in, Blaise was walking out, a young female Auror at his side. He stopped and pulled me aside, murmuring a _Muffliato_.

"Are you here because you saw the photos this morning?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I was coming to have lunch with Daphne, so I figured I'd bring Draco something, as well."

"Cut the shit, Astoria. You haven't been here since he came back to work. Awfully funny that today would be the first time," he said. "I don't understand why the fuck you let him come back here in the first place."

"I didn't have much of a choice, did I? He went to Potter behind my back, Blaise," I answered, offended.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "They're going to end up together again. I can feel her pulling away from me."

"Did you act like a jerk? Berate her for Draco's… infatuation with her?"

Shrugging, he replied, "I wasn't happy when I saw the paper this morning. I could've handled it better."

"I suggest you swallow your pride and buy her one hell of an apology gift. As far as Draco goes, I don't know what to do anymore. I've done all I can to try to make him happy, and I won't get pregnant again when he doesn't want me to."

"You're giving up?"

Shaking my head, I looked him in the eyes. "I don't think so, but I'm done clinging to the hope that he'll someday love me like he loves her. He doesn't even know what they were, and yet he still wants her."

"I've been competing with his ghost since the beginning, and I don't know how to fight for her without pissing her off," he admitted. "I'm jealous of him. It doesn't matter that he doesn't know what they were. She does, and she'll never forget him."

"You need to let go of the jealousy," I said. "If you don't, it's going to eat your relationship alive. She doesn't want to be caught in a tug of war, I'm sure."

"Did you see the way they were looking at each other?" he asked, pain lacing his voice. "I know that look, the one she was giving him when she'd fallen."

"Everyone knows what that kind of look means. She didn't kiss him, though. I don't think your situation is as hopeless as you believe it is."

"Blaise?" the female Auror said. "We really need to get to Falmouth. Are you ready?"

He looked at me. "Please, try to get him to do anything but stay here."

I gave a noncommittal shrug and turned away, heading in to see Draco. His blond head was clearly visible at his desk, so I started walking towards him. I knew Hermione had an office, but all the doors lining the edge of the department were closed.

When Draco noticed my approach, he blanched, likely thinking along the lines that Blaise had been — that I was there to talk to him about the photos in _The Daily Prophet_. At my smile, he looked almost relieved.

He stood and made his way over to me. "What are you doing here, Stori?"

"I'm having lunch with Daphne, so I figured I'd bring you something, as well," I replied, holding the takeaway bag up. "I know it's a bit of a surprise, but you'll need to eat, right?"

"Of course," he said, shocked. "Thank you for thinking of me."

He looked over my shoulder and I knew that she was there, that she'd spotted us. However, much to my surprise, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my lips.

It was surprisingly natural, and I wondered if it was simply a show, if he was trying to make her jealous.

"Let me walk you to Daphne's office."

Nodding, I took his takeaway container out of the bag. "This one's yours. Shall I just leave it here?"

"That's fine," he answered.

When we'd walked out into the hallway, Draco asked, "You're not upset with me?"

I feigned ignorance. "Why would I be upset?"

He sighed. "Did you see the photos in the paper today?"

"I did," I replied. "I wasn't really happy about it, but it was all innocent, right?"

"Of course. I would never cheat, Astoria," he answered, and I nearly laughed aloud.

"Right. Well, it doesn't matter then."

Stopping in the hallway, he grabbed my arm. "Granger and I were friends before my accident. I've pieced that much together. What I don't understand"—he pushed a hand through his fringe—"is why everyone has acted like we weren't. You and I talked about it when I was still healing, and she told me that you've confronted her about our friendship before."

"I haven't—"

"Either she's lying, or you're lying, Astoria," Draco said. "I tend to think it's you, though, because Blaise's actions seem to line up closer to Granger's take on things, and a few others saw us out together before the accident. I haven't talked to Pansy or Potter yet, but I have a feeling they also know something I don't."

The moment had arrived; I had to decide. Did I lie to him? Or did I confess?

Somewhere in the middle seemed about right.

"I was jealous, okay?" I huffed, and it wasn't a lie. "I knew that you'd always fancied her when we were younger and I've already told you we didn't have the best relationship before."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "So that's a reason to be dishonest with me? I'd just woken up, Astoria. I didn't know anything about my life before the accident. I was relying on you and my parents to tell me the truth."

Hearing the anger and angst lacing his voice, I said, "I'm sorry. I know it was wrong, Draco, but—"

"I need to get back to my case. I trust you can find your way to Daphne's office."

"Draco—"

"I need time to think, Astoria. I suggest you do the same."

As he turned and walked away, I felt tears threatening and I was no longer in the mood for lunch. But I needed to see Daphne. I'd never told her the whole story, but I felt like I was ready to now. She was an objective party, and I hoped she would be able to give me some advice.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed my emotions down.

After all, Draco was mad about the way I'd lied to him, and that was entirely my fault.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how he'd react if he found out the whole truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give all the love to BreathOfThePhoenix. She's been betaing her brains out so I could give you an extra chapter this week.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading!


	31. Lucius - 15th June 2007

As soon as Astoria walked out, Narcissa turned to face me, anger darkening her blue eyes. "I meant what I said, Lucius. Do not even think about meddling in this again."

"Narcissa, he'll hate us. All of us," I replied. "Even if you didn't know before it happened, you knew after and you didn't tell him."

"I don't care!" she bellowed, and Scorpius looked up at her, shock on his little face.

I summoned an elf, not wanting to subject him to this conversation. "Can you please take Scorpius to the nursery and play while we discuss a few things?"

"Yes, Master Lucius," the elf squeaked, taking hold of Scorpius' tiny hand and disappearing with a crack.

Glaring at Narcissa, I said, "Honestly, you don't care if Draco hates us? If he never lets us see Scorpius again?"

"That doesn't matter. We're not going to keep doing this to him," she stated. "Falling together once could have been an accident, but twice? They're meant to be together. If we fix this, he might be able to forgive us."

I pondered her words for a moment before answering. "Do you really think he'll forgive _her_? He won't trust her when he finds out what she's done to him."

"I think he will. If she gives him all his memories back, he won't be able to forget her again. He's wanted that girl since Hogwarts," Narcissa said.

If Hermione and Draco ended up together, I wasn't sure that she would want to see us. We had certainly derailed her life. And what would that mean for Draco and Scorpius? Would we never have another holiday with them?

Deep down, I knew these were all things I should have considered two years ago, but I had acted on impulse. When I made the threat, I hadn't even truly known where Hermione's parents were, only that she had Obliviated them and sent them to another country. Despite everything I'd said, I never would have harmed them. When things hadn't been going my way, I simply resorted to Death Eater tactics, knowing that the easiest way to manipulate a person was to threaten their family.

It had worked when Voldemort used Narcissa and Draco against me.

"Lucius?" she prompted, pulling me from my thoughts. "You know I'm right. He loves her."

In an attempt to make her see sense, I asked, "What about Blaise? Do you think she'd abandon him for Draco?"

"In a heartbeat," she answered, not pausing for a single moment. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if she started distancing herself from him the day Draco came back to work."

_Could that be true? Had she been hoping this would happen? That Draco would remember?_

"Darling—"

"Do _not_ try to sweet talk me, Lucius," she spat. "Don't you realise this is the last chance you're going to get to tell Draco on your own terms? The last chance you have to save your relationship with him? I have no doubt that he will forgive _me_ in due time, but _you_ …"

"I'm well aware of how Draco feels about me, thank you." Letting out a sigh, I started to pace. "For Salazar's sake, he told me that if I ever tried to force him into a choice again, our relationship would be over. How will telling him what I've done help this situation?"

Grabbing my arm, she halted my steps momentarily and then redirected me into the sitting room. When she gestured to a chair, I sat and she took the one opposite me. She crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest.

"You're missing the point," she began, her voice less angry than before. "You're making this about _you_ , thinking about how it will affect _you_. You have to look at it from Draco's perspective. He's been suspicious something was off since the beginning, and we've tried to cover everything up. I'm sure he's remembered _something_ or discovered some kind of clue since going back to work."

I placed my elbows on the table between us and covered my face with my hands. "I don't think there's been anything but the perfume and that shopping trip. The girl did a thorough job."

"And yet he still finds himself drawn to her," Narcissa replied. "I know you don't want to consider this, Lucius, but she is the woman he's compared all other women to. She is what he wants."

"All the more reason for him to hate me if I tell him!" I shouted. "Gods, Narcissa, don't you get it? No matter what — whether I tell him or he finds out on his own — he's never going to speak to me again. He may not even speak to Hermione, let alone stay in love with her."

She shook her head. "He will always be in love with her, just like I have always been in love with you, regardless of your choices." Meeting my eyes, she continued, "Don't you think he's more likely to forgive us — forgive her — if we just tell him what happened?"

I couldn't believe that she was truly this naïve.

"He isn't going to forgive anyone for this. Don't you see? There is no happy ending here!"

Hearing the hysteria in my own voice, I stood again, heading to the window overlooking the grounds. I truly meant what I said — there couldn't possibly be any joy after all that had happened. There was no way for me to apologise for the despicable plan I'd hatched two years ago.

Her hand came to rest on my shoulder, though I hadn't heard her stand up and walk over. "I think you underestimate what he can forgive you for, Lucius. If you explain that it was a mistake, apologise, and give him space… take the blame off of Hermione… then I think it could all work out."

"Why?" I asked angrily. "Why would it work out? Have you forgotten that I threatened to kill? Something I swore I'd never do again? Or that Hermione has every reason in the world to hate me?"

"She had every reason to hate Draco, and she still fell in love with him."

While I knew that was true, I didn't think she would ever forgive me for what I'd done.

"I'll think about it, Narcissa. Is that what you want to hear? That I'll consider throwing myself to the wolves, losing my entire family, on this sliver of a chance?"

"Yes. I want you to consider the two scenarios because, one way or another, he's going to find out, especially if he's trying to get close to her again. She may have grabbed hold of Blaise when she was drowning, but she loves Draco. If he wants her, then she won't be able to stop herself," she responded. "Think about which scenario he'd hate you less for."

"But if I'm the one to tell him… It was all for nothing. He's lost two years of his life and if I admit what happened, why did I do it in the first place?"

She smiled at me — a small smile, but a smile nonetheless — and said, "Scorpius. You did it for Scorpius. Even if it was wrong, you tried to do it for the right reasons, Lucius."

"What does that matter, though? The road to hell is paved with good intentions," I replied, taking a deep breath.

As her hand rubbed my back, I found myself thinking how lucky I was to have this woman. She'd followed me through hell and back out again twice before, and she'd come out a stronger, better person. I, however, appeared to be unchanged. I was still making bad decisions, especially when it came to my family and what was best for them.

"It matters because you wanted Draco to have a happy family. It matters because you didn't want to see your grandchild grow up in a broken home. Even if Draco can't see that at first, I do. I know what you were thinking," Narcissa said, trying to comfort me.

She knew she was close to breaking me down, to getting what she wanted from me. With enough time, she could convince me to do just about anything.

"Well, if you're so wise, why didn't you tell me any of this beforehand?" I teased.

"Because you were a fool who didn't think to consult your wife. I would have handled Astoria. I _will_ handle Astoria when the time comes," she stated.

"Narcissa, in all seriousness, why didn't you encourage me to do this sooner?"

She exhaled, a rush of air leaving her lungs. "Because I knew you weren't ready to admit you were wrong. Honestly, at the beginning, I was hoping that you'd come to that conclusion on your own, but I should have said something after the baby was born. I saw how your guilt started to eat at you."

Again, I silently marvelled at how well she knew me.

"Let's go spend time with Scorpius," I said, my voice nearly shaking.

I held back the other sentence playing in my mind.

_I don't know how many more times we'll be allowed to see him if Draco finds out._

* * *

As we passed the hours with Scorpius, I started to imagine him growing up without us. If Draco kept us away from him, I would never forgive myself.

And perhaps that would be the right thing to do. I shouldn't forgive myself for meddling in my son's life.

I committed every tiny smile and joyous laugh to memory, aware of the irony of the situation. I was trying to remember everything, and I had taken Draco's memories away from him. Watching as Scorpius rode a toy broomstick through the Manor, I felt a pang in my chest.

I'd done this same thing with Draco so many years ago.

He zoomed back and forth between Narcissa and me, each of us stationed at the end of an empty corridor. When she and I made eye contact, I could feel her asking me to really think about what we'd discussed. I still couldn't imagine how Draco would ever forgive me for this scheme, but she seemed certain that he would.

Scorpius climbed off the broomstick and ran to her, his little arms outstretched. Picking him up and hugging him close, Narcissa walked towards me. As soon as they were close enough, I reached for him and settled him on my hip.

"Are you tired, little one?" I asked, my voice softer than it ever was for anyone else. He nodded and rubbed at his eyes. "Grandfather will take you up to the nursery. I'm sure you could use a nap after all that flying."

Narcissa followed close behind as I walked up the stairs, knowing he favoured the gentle movement of walking to the squishing feeling of Apparition when he was tired. His fingers gripped the ends of my hair, but I ignored it.

When I laid him down in his cot, he looked up at me and smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. In that moment, I couldn't imagine my life without him.

Without Draco.

"He looks so much like his father," Narcissa whispered, moving to stand next to me beside the cot. "If we looked at a photo of Draco at this age, you'd hardly be able to tell them apart."

"I remember," I said, the words feeling harsh on my tongue.

_I remember._

Because, unlike my son, I could remember everything about my life, good and bad.

Pushing my emotions down, I turned away and headed out of the nursery. I needed a drink. I needed to consider my options.

I needed a fucking Time-Turner so I could confront my past self. And Astoria's past-self.

Why hadn't I just said, 'he doesn't fucking love you' and moved on with it? I knew just as well as Narcissa did that divorces were no longer as scandalous in our world. I just hadn't wanted it to happen in the Malfoy line.

Everything I'd done from the time I was a teenager was supposedly for the prestigious, pure Malfoy bloodline. I wondered if Draco had felt the same…

Last year, at the birthday party from hell, Blaise had told me that Draco never asked Hermione out on a date because he thought I wouldn't approve of her.

I supposed that was true.

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked. "Lucius, where are you going?"

"My study," I answered. "I just… need some time. Can you please give me a few days to think?"

She nodded, knowing that if I was considering what she'd said, she was likely going to get her way.

* * *

When Astoria arrived back at the Manor, she was visibly upset. I could tell she had been crying, and it made me uncomfortable. I didn't _want_ to ask her what had happened, but I didn't seem to have a choice. Letting her suffer in silence wasn't an option. Regardless of my personal opinion, she was still family.

"What's happened now?" I asked, though I could hear the slight slur to my words, the three glasses of firewhisky I'd consumed making my tongue feel as heavy as lead.

"Well, he knows that he and Hermione were _friends_ before his accident," she stated, her voice louder and clearer than I remembered it ever being.

Although I was half-drunk, so I wasn't the most reliable witness.

Snapping my fingers, I summoned an elf. "Can you please ask Narcissa to join us?"

The elf nodded, its large ears bobbing, and popped back out of the room. A few minutes later, Narcissa joined us, looking concerned at my disposition and Astoria's tears.

"Explain," I said, prompting Astoria.

Crying, she walked us through her conversation with Draco. It had been short and to the point — other people had told Draco that he and Hermione were friends before his accident, that they'd seen them around together. Who these people were, I had no idea, but they were going to be the undoing of all this.

Now that Draco knew there had been something between them, he wouldn't be able to let it go. He would keep trying to get back into her life and, just like Narcissa had predicted, she would eventually let him back in.

I felt that with certainty in my soul because, if Narcissa and I were in that situation, I would do the same thing. I wouldn't just let her go, and our relationship was the closest parallel I could draw to what was between Draco and Hermione.

When I refocused on Astoria, she was still going. "—and he told me he needed to think and so did I because I had lied to him. I just, I can't! He can't find out what really happened. He'll never speak to any of us and he'll take Scorpius from me! He can't even handle the knowledge that they were _friends_ without being angry."

Narcissa frowned. "This morning you said you wanted to think, Astoria. Now you've come to the conclusion that we need to keep deceiving him?"

"Yes!" she cried. "I don't want to lose my son."

I stayed silent. I hadn't yet come to my own conclusions about this situation, but things were escalating quickly; the wall of lies we built had started to crumble, and it was only a matter of time until it all came crashing down.

"You're a good mother. I don't think he will keep Scorpius from you. He is not that vengeful," Narcissa replied. "But, if we continue lying to him at this critical point and he finds out somewhere down the line, he may not ever forgive any of us. Do you understand that?"

"I don't think he'll ever forgive us now," Astoria admitted. "I know I wouldn't."

Hating to see my wife at war with herself, I spoke. "I think we need to talk to Hermione."

Astoria's head snapped up. "What? Why?"

"We need to find out if she can put his memories back, first and foremost," I said, reasoning through the problem on the fly. The issues we were facing had sobered me up quickly. "What would be the point of telling him if she can't?"

"Lucius, the point is that he deserves to know what happened," Narcissa began. "But I do agree — we should talk to Hermione before we tell him anything. She'll need to be prepared if we do."

"I don't want to tell him!" Astoria shouted. "I may have let your words get to me this morning, but after talking to Daphne, I don't think I want to give up on my marriage. I gave up so many things to be the perfect wife for Draco—"

"No one asked you to give up anything," I snarled, unwilling to let her place any sort of blame on her marriage contract. She could have broken it after the war, and we wouldn't have contested it. "You chose that life for yourself, Astoria. Look at Pansy and your sister. They decided to break with the old ways—"

"I know that! I didn't want to struggle like they did—"

"So you married him solely for the money?" I snapped back.

Her tears started flowing again. "I didn't want to lose my family. My parents didn't speak to Daphne for nearly two years after she broke the contract with the Goyles."

Narcissa looked to her sympathetically, knowing the pain of pureblood disownment. She'd often lamented the loss of her relationship with Andromeda. "Astoria, I can tell you're unhappy. Why would you want to continue living like this?"

Astoria threaded her fingers into her hair, disheveling it in a way I'd never seen before. "I l-love him. I love my family. This is how it's supposed to be — me and Draco and a baby."

The effects of pureblood brainwashing were certainly playing out in front of me, and Astoria's parents had done a number on her. I'd never seen an unhappy woman want to stay in a situation like the one she was in.

"Astoria," I began, "I don't think anyone intended for you to live like this—"

"Stop!" she shouted. "This is your fault. It was your plan!"

"Well, you certainly didn't give me all the facts!" I responded, my anger rising to the surface. "You didn't tell me he was in love with her, that it had been going on for that long!"

"Why would I admit that?" Astoria snapped back. "Why would I tell you — one of the men set firmly in the old ways — that I couldn't make my husband happy? That he didn't love me?"

I supposed she was right, in a roundabout way.

Narcissa stepped in. "Enough. None of that matters now," she stated. "We need to get Hermione here, and I don't know how to do that without alerting Draco."

"It's Friday afternoon. This may have to wait through the weekend," I said, knowing it would be difficult to contact Hermione before the weekend.

And it would be even harder to get a note to her if she was still staying with Blaise.

Nodding her head, Narcissa said, "You're likely right. She'll end up with Blaise tonight and Draco will be home soon, I'm sure."

I heard Astoria sniffle again. "I don't know what he's planning on doing. He said he needed time to think. He might not come home."

"Well, I think the best bet is to owl Hermione in the morning. Even if she's with Blaise, it doesn't matter. He'll need to know, too. Probably the Potters, as well." Narcissa paused. "This is going to affect a lot of people and will need to be handled carefully."

"I still think it's a bad idea to tell him," Astoria offered, tears still streaking down her cheeks. "He's going to hate all of us."

Even though I agreed with her, I knew that Narcissa was right — it was now or never. If we continued lying to him and he found out later, the consequences would be far more grave.

"Let's talk to Hermione — and Blaise — and see what they think," I replied, trying to placate both women. "Maybe it's not even possible for her to reverse what she's done."

Narcissa sighed. "I doubt that she'd make it irreversible, but I suppose it's a possibility."

"I don't want to be here when you talk to her," Astoria stated. "I don't even want to be in the same bloody building as her."

"That's fine," I answered. "I'll handle Ms. Granger. I think she and I have an understanding of sorts."

* * *

The following morning, Narcissa woke me up early, knowing she'd need to persuade me to carry out the plan. While I knew what she was up to, I was more than happy to play along, making her think she was turning me into putty in her hands.

And her hands, they were roaming everywhere, driving me crazy the way they had for over thirty years. Since the day she first touched me, I'd known she would be able to get whatever she wanted from me, that I'd do anything for her.

As she moved over me, I found my concentration faltering, wondering if Draco had felt this way with Hermione. It was completely unbidden and inappropriate, but if she had made my son feel this way, I wanted to repair what I had damaged between them.

In the morning light, everything seemed clear to me. If I wanted to salvage any sort of relationship with my son and my grandson, I had to be honest. I had to come clean, to help him see that I left Hermione no choice. He shouldn't hate her.

No, he should love her.

"Lucius," Narcissa said, her fingernails digging into my shoulders. "Come back to me."

And I did, flipping us over and taking control of everything.

"I'm here," I replied, kissing her. "I love you."

She smiled up at me, her hands running into my hair. "I love you, too."

I knew that smile — it was the one she used when she thought she'd conquered me, gotten what she wanted all on her own. I would never tell her that she needn't ever persuade me of anything.

I would eventually give her anything she wanted, even if she just waited me out.

Right now, she was simply giving me the strength I needed to take control of the situation.

* * *

Later on, I made my way to my study, feeling a determination I hadn't the day before. I could do this. I could owl Hermione Granger, and I could try to set things to rights for Draco. He deserved to know. He deserved to be happy, to have a chance at true love with the woman he'd always dreamed of.

I'd taken everything away from him, and it was time to give it back. Hopefully it wasn't too late.

Hopefully she wouldn't stay with Blaise if Draco wanted to fix things between them.

_Ms. Granger,_

_Narcissa and I would like to invite you and Mr. Zabini over for tea this afternoon. Are you available to speak with us?_

_Please let me know as soon as possible._

_LM_

As I watched the owl fly off into the distance, I prayed I wasn't making a huge mistake. I didn't know if I wanted her to come or to refuse. I didn't know if I wanted her to be able to restore Draco's memories or not.

It all depended on the chain reaction of events I was hopefully setting in motion.

If Hermione could restore his memories, would she be willing to?

If she was willing to, would he want her to? Or would he be too furious with her?

If he was furious with her, would he ever forgive her?

If he forgave her, would they be able to build their relationship again?

Would she want to be with him again?

Would he want to be with her again?

And how would this affect Scorpius?

With a sigh, I tried to let it all go. I had taken the first step, and now I could do nothing but wait for her response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be responding to comments on the last chapter today. I had two very long days at work on Thursday and Friday.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. And, as always, you can find me on Facebook as K.N. PotionChemist and on Tumblr as potionchemist.


	32. Hermione, 15-16th June 2007

After Draco stormed out of my office, I was alone for the rest of the day. I wanted to talk to him, to try to explain that his friendship had meant the world to me, but I couldn't without giving too much away. Things were getting even more complicated, and I really had no idea how to untangle them.

I tried to focus on my work, but it seemed to be impossible. I'd spent so much time working on the case in Italy with Blaise and the potioneer case with Draco that I was woefully behind on everything else. I knew there were several Aurors simply waiting on my response and I needed to refocus, to stop worrying about Draco and Blaise and take care of the things that I had to do.

Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my iPod and put in my earbuds, trying to drown out my thoughts so I could get something done. I didn't want the whole day to be a total loss. Normally, electronics like this would go haywire within the Ministry, but I'd created a spell to shield it from the magic in the air, allowing me to use it in both the Muggle and magical worlds.

As the music played in my ears, my quill flew across the parchment, answering memos and letters as quickly as I could. If I kept my mind busy, I wouldn't think of Draco or Blaise or the mess I was currently in.

Two hours passed and there was never a knock on my door. It only opened when my responses needed to sneak out. Tears filled my eyes, but I wasn't sure who I was on the verge of crying over. Was I more upset that Blaise hadn't tried to apologise again or that Draco had seemingly given up on trying to be my friend?

Needing a break, I stood and moved towards my door, opening it and looking out into the department. As soon as my eyes landed on Draco, I froze. Astoria was there, standing in front of him with a bag of takeaway. Immediately, my heart started to race. She'd come to confront him about the picture, to confront me about what I was doing with her husband again.

Just as I was about to retreat back into my office, he made eye contact with me before leaning down and kissing her sweetly. I looked away as fast as I could, moving swiftly towards the women's loo and praying that Astoria hadn't noticed me. I didn't want to deal with her today. Between Blaise and the confrontation with Draco, I'd had all I could handle for one day.

When I entered the loo, I closed and locked the door, leaning back against it as I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself. However, instead of calming down, I found myself growing angry.

How dare he? How dare this Draco — the one who didn't know there had been anything but friendship between us — lean down and kiss his wife just to make me jealous? How could he possibly know me so well when he didn't remember me at all?

Of course, he'd used that tactic on me before, back when I was deluding myself into thinking we were 'just having a fling' and kept pushing him away…

_As I stood in the DMLE, I could feel his eyes on me._

_I continued my conversation with the delegate from France, smiling and laughing at all the right times. When he placed a hand on my arm, I didn't pull away, knowing that it would drive Draco crazy. I'd told him that things were over between us, that the last time was really the last time. This had been going on for far too long — nearly two months._

_Deep down, I knew I needed to stop caving to him. I needed to show him that I could move on, that I wasn't thinking of him and him alone. Of course, that was a lie; if I could have him fully, I would take him in an instant, but he was married to Astoria. He showed no signs of trying to end the relationship, and I refused to be the other woman forever._

_I wouldn't do it. I needed to end this before the feelings got any deeper, any more real._

_When the delegate asked me to dinner, I smiled and nodded, telling him that he could meet me at my favourite French restaurant in Diagon Alley at seven. He smiled back at me and said, "It's a date."_

_Draco's grey eyes were filled with fire when I glanced at him. Shaking my head, I looked away, knowing that he'd keep his distance if I truly wanted him to._

_Later that night, when I arrived at the restaurant, the French delegate had his hand on my lower back, leading me through the tables as we followed the maitre d'. As I looked around the room, I spotted them. Draco was sitting at a table with Astoria, smiling at her brightly. She looked beautiful, like she'd taken hours to get ready for this date._

_Or maybe she always looked like that. I was certain that Draco had sprung this on her after overhearing my conversation._

_Through the meal, I did my best not to look over at them, but it was hard when Astoria giggled or Draco's voice made its way to my ears; my mind was so used to focusing on him._

_Before dessert, I excused myself to the loo, needing a break from their fucking happiness being shoved in my face. I knew what he was doing, and I was pissed that it was working. He was trying to manipulate me into caving, into inviting him back to my house._

_I couldn't do it._

_He was with her — with Astoria — and I couldn't be his mistress. It was wrong. It didn't matter how right it felt when we were together. It was still wrong._

_As I stood in front of the sinks, the door opened and he walked in, locking it behind him. I didn't look over at him, but he came up behind me, meeting my eyes in the mirror._

_"What are you doing, Granger?" he asked quietly. "Why are you denying that you want this?"_

_"You know why," I answered. "This is wrong, Draco. You're married."_

_He wrapped his arm around my waist and his chin nearly rested on my head. I loved the feel of him against me, even if I knew I shouldn't. Feeling my body starting to react to him, I spun in his hold, looking up at him._

_"Let me go," I demanded._

_Looking down at me, he replied, "I can't. You're all I can think about."_

_"Go back to your_ wife _. I'm going back to my date."_

_"Are you going to take him home with you?"_

_I shrugged, even though I knew I wasn't going to. "I haven't decided."_

_"Don't," he pleaded. "Please don't do it, Hermione."_

_"It's none of your business what I do."_

_I pulled away and made my way out, feeling worse than I had before._

_When he reappeared, he smiled at Astoria, leaning down to kiss her. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. It was like a car crash, watching him kiss his wife right in front of me. Jealousy made my stomach turn and my magic crackle in my veins._

_Draco Malfoy was a fucking prick, but I wanted him. I wanted him so badly it hurt._

_But he was married. All I would ever be was the other woman to him, never a wife. Never the mother of his legitimate children. It didn't matter what was between us._

_She would always come first._

The memory scorched through me, the feelings of resentment all coming back easily. It was like it was yesterday, rather than three years ago.

He hadn't changed at all, not really.

And I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I hadn't altered who he was when I removed his memories. Unfortunately, that meant he was still an arse, still fixated on me, on making me jealous of his perfect little pureblood wife to get his way.

It was a mix of bad and good, just like everything about our relationship had been.

And here I was, in a bathroom again, trying to forget that he'd just kissed his wife in front of me to get under my skin. This time, he wouldn't be chasing after me, but that was my own fault. He knew I was with Blaise and had no idea about our past relationship.

With a sigh, I straightened myself out — using magic to glamour the redness of my eyes and fix my makeup — and walked back to my office, not sparing a glance towards Draco's desk before closing the door behind me again.

* * *

By the time five p.m. rolled around and I hadn't heard anything from either Draco or Blaise, I was feeling stressed. It was irrational, but I couldn't help it. I wanted someone to come after me, to desperately want me to forgive them. I knew I could go to either of them and they'd likely listen to what I had to say, but I didn't want to be the one apologising, especially to Blaise. I hadn't done anything to deserve his anger this morning. He'd seen one innocent interaction in the paper and blown it way out of proportion.

And Draco? He hadn't even tried to hear me out.

I decided I needed to get out of the office for the weekend, Falmouth be damned. Draco could stay here all night and wait for Blaise. If they both wanted to give me the silent treatment, that was fine. I just wouldn't hang around for it.

Packing up my things, I looked at the clock once more, trying not to think about why Blaise hadn't checked in yet. I wouldn't worry about him, not right now. He and Mel were smart; they were fine.

When I opened my office door, I felt Draco's eyes on me, but I didn't look at him. He'd been the one to escalate the tension between us, kissing Astoria right after making eye contact with me, storming out of my office without listening to a single thing I wanted to say. After I'd locked the door, I turned straight towards the exit and walked out.

I felt stronger than I had earlier in the day, holding my head up high as I walked to the lift. However, I was anticipating the chase, hoping that Draco would follow me and try to talk to me.

But this wasn't the Draco who knew he could make me cave with a single smile or a touch of his hand to my bare skin.

Since I didn't trust myself to go home and be alone, I rode the lift to the Atrium and made my way to the nearest available Floo. I debated for a moment, trying to decide if I wanted to deal with Harry and Pansy's questions. It had been a shit day already, so I figured I might as well get it over with.

Stepping into the grate, I threw the Floo powder down, focusing on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

As soon as I made my way into the kitchen, I heard feet on the stairs. Pansy appeared and immediately glared at me. Lily was tucked into the crook of her arm, sleeping peacefully.

She pointed to the stairs, signalling that I should follow her. Harry was sitting on the sofa, the boys playing at his feet. When he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with concern. James, however, ran over to me and hugged my legs tightly.

"Auntie Mi!" he exclaimed, leading Sev to do the same.

"Hey guys," I said, ruffling their hair. "I thought I'd come by and see you."

Pansy had continued up the stairs, likely heading to put Lily in her cot so we could all talk without waking her. The boys were a handful on their own, nevermind when company came to call.

"Hermione…" Harry started cautiously.

I shook my head. "Let me spend some time with the boys first, Harry. Please. I need to relax for a bit."

"Yeah, Dad," James said, making me wince.

Harry only smirked at his son's cheekiness.

When I went to sit on the floor, I realised I was still in my work clothes and quickly transfigured my skirt into a pair of comfortable jeans. At the sight of the magic, James and Sev both clapped.

About ten minutes later, Pansy came back down, eyeing me carefully as I played with her sons. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry shake his head at her, letting her know that I wanted a bit of time.

"Are you staying for dinner, Granger?" she asked, her voice terse.

"If it's not a problem."

"Of course it's not. We're just going to order some takeaway. Lily thinks sleep is for the weak, so we're knackered," Pansy replied. "Take some time with the boys and then we'll talk, yeah?"

I nodded, even though I was resolutely not looking forward to talking about anything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. Like always, spending time with James and Sev calmed me, putting a smile on my face. I was sure Lily would be the same way as she got older, though I'd always have a special connection with the boys — they'd helped me find purpose, to refocus when I needed it, and I'd never forget that.

Once dinner was done and all the kids had been put to bed, I found myself sitting in Harry and Pansy's living room, a glass of elf-made wine in my hands. My nerves were overtaking me, and I didn't know how to begin the conversation. They were waiting on me, not badgering me, so I took a deep breath and organised my thoughts.

"I'm assuming you saw the paper this morning?"

"Of course we did. Everyone in the bloody wizarding world did. _Malfoy and Granger: Letting Go of the Past_ was really an excellent headline. And then it went on to explain how you don't hate each other anymore," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "Not really news to me."

"It wasn't what it looked like!" Her lips parted, ready to cut me off, but I held a hand up. "Listen, he'd somehow found out that we'd spent a lot of time together before his 'accident'. The bookstore that we used to go to in Knockturn Alley… The clerk had something on reserve for us still. It was a book about Muggle minds from when we were researching how to help my parents. And I think someone else said something to him, as well."

Harry sucked in a breath. "Who would've done that?"

Shrugging, I continued, "Anyway, in one picture, I had legitimately fallen and he'd caught me. I was off-guard because I was so shocked. I know what my face looked like — Blaise made sure to point it out to me — but it was nothing."

"And the one where Draco's got his arm around you?" Pansy asked.

"That little side-hug lasted about as long as the photo showed. I said I was clear to help him with this case, and we'd just talked about how we used to be friends… I guess he was thanking me. I'm not really certain why he did that."

"Because he's Malfoy," Harry said, his voice nearly emotionless, "and you're you, and he's been watching you with Zabini. I'm sure it's been driving him mental. Once again, he wants to have his cake and eat it, too."

Struggling to push down my emotions, I looked to Pansy. "Do you think that's what it is?"

"I don't know," she began. "I think you're playing with fire, though. I think the more time you spend around Draco, the more complicated things are going to get. For both of you."

"And where's Blaise?" Harry asked.

I felt the heat rising to my face. "We… had a bit of a row this morning. I might have told him I needed space."

"Oh, for Salazar's sake! What did he say to you, Granger?"

"He accused me of still being in love with Draco. And he threw it in my face that I haven't told him that I love him yet," I recalled, pain lancing through me. "He also called me Granger, and I lost it and told him not to. He didn't take that well."

"He never calls you that," Harry pointed out. "In fact, I don't think he even did it at school."

Pansy shook her head. "He didn't. He's trying to be Draco. He thinks that will make you focus on him, I'm sure." After a second, she asked, "Are you still in love with Draco?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I think a part of me always will be. We never really had a break up. Everything just… ended."

"We're aware," she stated. "And Blaise? Do you love him?"

Sighing, I said, "I do. But I'm not sure if it's the same as what I felt for Draco at the height of things. I feel like if I tell Blaise I love him, that's it. Everything is sealed. Within a year I'll be Mrs. Zabini with a baby on the way, and I'm not ready for that yet. I nearly panicked when he referred to staying overnight with the boys as 'practise' for when we have our own kids."

Harry made eye contact with me. "And you don't want that?"

_Did I want that? Did I want to be married and settled with kids? Did I want it to be with Blaise?_

"I want a family," I began, knowing that much was true, "but I'm scared. And Draco being around again… It's brought up a lot of issues for me. I just haven't really talked to anyone about it."

"This is why I didn't want you to rush into things with Blaise before you saw Draco again, Granger," Pansy said, not unkindly. "I knew it would be hard for both of you. I understand why Blaise reacted the way he did, even if it wasn't right."

"I know. I gave him some leeway and was understanding to a point"—I stood and started to pace, my hands carding through my hair—"but I wasn't going to let him keep telling me I couldn't work with Draco. As long as he's in the department, if he needs my help, I have to treat him just like anyone else."

Reaching out and grabbing my arm, Harry halted my steps. "Hermione, you don't have to—"

"I do," I stated firmly. "Harry, he knows we were friends before the Obliviation now. If I just start ignoring him out of nowhere, he'll know something's wrong. Though he's currently not speaking to me either, so maybe it won't matter at all."

"And why isn't Draco speaking to you?" Pansy asked.

"Blaise confronted him and Draco thought I was behind it, that I didn't actually want to work with him or be his friend and I was too afraid to tell him myself," I answered, my stomach churning. "Everything is a huge mess, and I really don't know how to handle it."

I felt the tears welling in my eyes again, and I knew I was on the verge of breaking down. Much to my surprise, Pansy stood and walked over to me, taking me into her arms. If anything, I would've thought that she'd slap me again.

"Granger, for a smart person, you have the worst fucking taste in men," she said, her hands rubbing my back. "I mean, really, I know I encouraged you to move on with Blaise, but you need to stay away from Draco if you want that relationship to work."

My heart squeezed, and I knew I had a lot of decisions to make in the coming days.

_Did I want things to work with Blaise?_

_How could I keep working in the DMLE and stay away from Draco?_

_Could I push Draco away without making him suspicious about my reasons why?_

_Did I really want to completely distance myself from Draco?_

"I know," I replied, sniffling. "Everything was getting better and now it's a tangled mess again. I don't know why Astoria and Lucius didn't try harder to stop him."

Harry cleared his throat and I looked up. "Have you thought about working in a different department, Hermione? I'm sure Kingsley would let you do whatever you liked."

"You don't—"

"Of course I want you in the DMLE," he interrupted, knowing where my train of thought was going. "But if this is going to be better for you — to be away from Malfoy — it's something you should consider."

Even though it wasn't something I had ever imagined, I knew he was right. There were plenty of other departments in the Ministry or I could go into the private sector.

There were so many possibilities. I just had to figure out if I was open to something new.

* * *

"James!" Harry scolded. "You really scared us."

My eyes popped open at my best friend's frantic tone, and I realised why he was so scared. Looking over at him, I said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't think about how you guys would feel if he wasn't in his room in the morning."

"When did he come in here?" Harry asked.

I shrugged. "No idea. He did the same while you and Pansy were at the hospital. He just climbed right into bed with us."

"Sorry, Dad," James said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Letting out a breath, Harry replied, "It's okay. I know you love your Auntie Mi. I'm sure she was happy to have a little sleepover."

James dozed off, not responding to Harry again.

"What time is it?"

"About half-seven. James usually wakes us up before now, so when he didn't, I went to check on him," Harry explained. "I wonder why he's so tired this morning."

"Maybe he's growing."

"Maybe. Merlin, I hope not."

"I can't believe he's three already," I said, running a hand through James' dark hair. "I feel like he was just born last week."

Harry laughed. "You've been through so much since he was born. I'm not really sure how it feels recent to you."

"Not to mention you've added two more in quick succession," I teased. "I don't know how you and Pansy got so lucky."

Once again, I felt tears filling my eyes and my mind drifted to Blaise. I knew he'd be willing to do this with me — give me a family and kids and lazy mornings in bed — but I wasn't sure if I was ready, or if he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew part of that was because I was confused by Draco, but I couldn't let myself fixate on him again.

Could I accept everything Blaise offered me? Or would it be wrong to essentially make him my consolation prize? Keep him because I couldn't have Draco? Because I loved him a little and the sex was great?

That didn't seem fair, even if I was sure he'd be willing to settle for that.

I didn't want to settle. Not when it came to love.

But then my mind spiraled again. I would never be able to have Draco. That part of my life was over. It had been for almost two years at this point. And Blaise… he'd made me happy over the past six months. He helped me to rebuild my life and my heart, and I was repaying him with doubts and emotional disloyalty.

"Hermione?" Harry said, pulling me from my thoughts.

I watched him climb into the bed, laying on his side and facing me, James between us.

"Hmmm?"

"You could be lucky, too. You just need to decide what you want."

"It's not that simple," I replied, meeting his eyes over James' head. "If Draco hadn't come back, I think things would be a lot different. But he complicates everything."

Harry's brow furrowed. "He shouldn't even be a factor in this. You're not going to start things up with him again, and he doesn't know that you were together in the past. He seems devoted to his son. He'll back off."

In my mind, I saw platinum hair and grey eyes, a handsome face that knew exactly what expressions to make when trying to get his way. And then I saw Draco at Fortescue's, feeding his son ice cream and saying that he needed to get home to Astoria, even if he had looked at me with the same lust he'd felt before the Obliviation.

"You could be right. He might just feel like he has a silly crush on me. Who knows?"

Again, he looked at me seriously. "I think you should really look into transferring. As much as I want to keep working with you, I don't think it's healthy for you to be in the office with both Draco and Blaise. The Department of Mysteries recruited you pretty heavily, yeah?"

I nodded, my imagination beginning to run wild. It was possible that I'd be able to do more significant magical research if I changed my career. Maybe then I'd feel content enough to settle down. "I'll contact them and see if there are any openings on Monday. It can't hurt to check, either way."

"Don't do it for me. Do it for yourself if that's what you really want."

"That's the thing, Harry," I began, deciding to be completely honest with him. "I don't know what I want. I just know that I can't keep going the way I have been since Draco came back."

"I know." He laced his fingers through mine, squeezing gently. "I'm here for you, no matter what you decide to do."

"Thank you."

"And, if you decide that it's worth it to work in the Department of Mysteries, we can still meet for lunch and you'll always be welcome here. You know that."

"I do, and I'm so grateful for you and Pansy. I just wish that it wasn't coming down to this — to me leaving or finding a way to deal with Draco every day," I replied. "I missed my appointment with Penelope—"

"What? Why didn't you go?" he interrupted, concerned.

James stirred between us, rolling onto his back. When he'd settled again, I said, "It was the day Lily was born, Harry. I've rescheduled for Monday. It wasn't intentional."

He looked relieved. "Good. I'm sure she'll be able to help you sort everything out. She's probably much better at this emotional shite than I am."

Trying to stifle my laugh, I shook a little and squeezed his hand again. "Well, you're better at it than I am, it seems."

"No, I'm really not. You feel everything so… deeply. It overtakes you—"

I cut him off. "That's really not a good thing. Have you seen the state of my life?"

"But once you figure everything out — which I've no doubt you will, sooner rather than later — you're going to be happier than anyone on the planet. You're stronger than I ever would've been in this situation."

While I suspected that was true, I still didn't feel all that great.

* * *

Later that day, Pansy came down the stairs holding a parchment scroll, telling me it had been delivered by owl. I rose from the floor, already recognising a letter from one of the Malfoys. Pansy must have realised it too; she stayed frozen, watching me. The boys felt the tension in the room, immediately quieting down.

When I cracked the seal, I saw Lucius' neat handwriting spanning the page.

_Ms. Granger,_

_Narcissa and I would like to invite you and Mr. Zabini over for tea this afternoon. Are you available to speak with us?_

_Please let me know as soon as possible._

_LM_

I read it three times and then handed it to Pansy, not sure how to respond. I really didn't want to know what they needed my help with. If it had anything to do with Draco, I wasn't sure I'd even be willing to help them at all.

Pansy scoffed. "They want you to _speak with you_?" She tore Lucius' letter to shreds. "More like they probably need your help with something, and no fucking way. After how things have been for you since he found out about the affair, they'll need to step over my dead body before they manipulate you again."

With wide eyes, James looked up at his mother, sensing her emotions.

She sighed. "It's okay, James. Mummy is just a little angry at someone. You and Sev should go up to your room and play while I talk to Auntie Mi."

"Sev, do you need me to carry you?" I asked, not looking forward to the conversation with Pansy.

He shook his head and moved towards the stairs. Pansy stood at the bottom, watching the boys, her wand in her hand in case one of them fell.

"It's better to let them do things on their own," she said. "My mother never let me, and it took me forever to gain any sort of independence. I don't fancy carrying these kids around forever."

Nodding, I moved to the sofa and settled in. "I know you did the right thing, but what if it was about Draco? What if—"

"Granger, if Draco remembered anything, I'm sure he'd be at your house banging down the door, and if he couldn't find you there, he'd go to Blaise's. Everyone would end up here eventually when they couldn't find you."

"Where's Harry?" I asked. He'd slipped out this morning and wasn't back yet.

Pansy shrugged. "He was going to visit with the Weasleys for a bit. We didn't want to say anything because we weren't sure if you'd be feeling up to dealing with Ron's questions today. You know he'd ask why Blaise wasn't with you."

She was right, but I would be willing to take any distraction right now. I was upset with Blaise, upset with the Malfoys… And I just wanted to scream myself hoarse.

"What do I do about Blaise?"

"Go and talk to him tomorrow night. Let him have the weekend to stew on it. Has he been calling?"

"I don't know. I haven't checked at all."

She summoned my bag and rummaged through it, grabbing the little phone and flipping it open. "Three times. That's not too bad in just under a day." Opening my text messages, her eyes widened. "Oh, but he's sent you plenty to read."

Stealing my mobile back, I scrolled through Blaise's messages.

_Hermione, I'm sorry. I know I said some things that were out of line. I swear, if it hadn't been Malfoy, it wouldn't have bothered me._

_Please answer me._

_I'm back from Falmouth. Mel and I have some news. Call me when you can._

_Home now. I was really hoping you'd be here._

_I am so sorry. I can't sleep without you. Please come back, Tesoro._

_Can you please just let me know that you're okay?_

_Hermione, I love you. Please come home. We need to talk._

When I thought of him lying awake all night, my heart hurt, but his words weren't any different from the apologies he'd already given me.

Scrutinising me, Pansy asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"You just said I should go tomorrow — those messages don't really change anything, right? I think I should make him wait a bit longer."

"I feel terrible for him. He's clearly torn up without you there and, fuck, he's my friend, too." She seemed to be at a loss.

As I scanned his words again, I felt a mix of emotions, and I didn't really know what was right or wrong. I felt sick about hurting Blaise, but I knew I couldn't let him control me. I had to make sure that I stayed true to who I was supposed to be. Who I wanted to be. I didn't want to be the woman who dropped everything she cared about to make sure her boyfriend was happy. That was dangerous.

I knew because I'd done it before. I dropped everything for Draco. As soon as he'd let me know he was free, I'd run to him.

"I'll send him a message. I don't want to see him today, but I'll let him know that we'll talk tomorrow. I want to spend the rest of the afternoon with the boys, and then I'll go home tonight," I told her, making a decision.

Pansy nodded. "Okay. What are you going to say?"

I started tapping it out, the buttons on the mobile clicking away.

_I'm not ready to talk yet. Give me tonight and I'll come over to yours tomorrow. I'm sorry, but I need to think things through._

Before I hit send, I showed it to Pansy and she gave her approval. Within seconds, he sent a reply.

_Guess I'll see you tomorrow then. I love you._

Blaise's I love yous made me feel guilty, like I was doing something wrong by not saying it back to him. However, I knew I didn't want to say it for the first time via text, and I was sure he didn't want it to be that way, either. I didn't respond, tucking my mobile in my pocket.

"You know, I think you're really good for each other, but Draco — he's going to keep coming between you as long as he's around," Pansy said.

Inhaling shakily, I replied, "I know. That's why I need to think. Maybe Harry was right last night. I could do something besides work in the DMLE."

"Do you think you'd like working somewhere else?"

Shrugging, I said, "I think so. It might be good to make a change. Become an Unspeakable or something. I'm sure I could be an Obliviator or research Memory Charms."

Pansy laughed. "I'm sorry. I know that's inappropriate, but it's funny."

Giving her a sad smile, I nodded. "I know, but maybe I could turn my knowledge into something that could actually help people."

"I bet you could, Granger." She pulled me up from the sofa. "Come on. Let's go see the boys and check on Lily. Harry will probably be home soon, and then we'll all go out to dinner somewhere in Muggle London, make a spectacle of ourselves with my unruly children."

That actually sounded perfect to me.

* * *

When I got home from our dinner outing, I cracked my very first journal from St. Mungo's open.

Even if it was a terrible idea, I'd decided to read back everything I'd written to Draco over the past year and a half. I wanted to remind myself of how far I'd come, of how much I had to lose if I let myself fall into old habits with him again.

As I turned the pages, tears started flowing. I had been so broken at the beginning; I'd lashed out at my friends when they tried to help me and when I looked at the meals I'd written down, I wondered how I didn't simply drop from starvation.

However, in my words, there was so much love. Of course I remembered I loved Draco, but it poured off the pages. Even though I'd made the choice to let him go, I loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone before. If Astoria hadn't gotten pregnant, I probably wouldn't have had the strength to walk away, Lucius' threats be damned. Sure, when I was the other woman, there had been so many issues to deal with, but there was also an incredible amount of passion and romantic love between us.

I read the little anecdotes about our trips that I'd put in the journals, the lists of things we did… And by the time I cracked open the second one, the one I'd started shortly after I got out of the hospital, I could sense the shift in me. I had accepted what happened and was really trying to move on. The regret still lingered — that would never change — but I wasn't walking down memory lane much anymore.

This journal held the picture of Draco and Scorpius, and it didn't make me cry when I looked at it. No, if anything, I felt a little bit angry. I'd made myself miserable — given up so much — so that Draco could be with his son, and he was still being selfish. Since he'd returned to work, he had been moving closer and closer to me. While I'd seen it happening, I had been powerless to stop it. My heart, my magic, my very soul knew him, and I couldn't simply push him away.

If it hadn't been Draco.

And then it struck me — those were the exact words Blaise had used.

If it hadn't been him.

I kept reading, finding my way through the past year, remembering how I'd felt when I decided to take a chance with Blaise and re-reading the entry from the first time I'd run into Draco, the way I'd spiraled when Harry told me he was coming back to work.

Once I'd read the final entry, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Blaise had helped me pull myself out of the hole, but ultimately, I'd done it myself. I didn't immediately jump into things with him and, looking back, it probably would've been easy to. He was always around, save for when I was living with Harry and Pansy.

When he did make his feelings known, I struggled with the decision of whether to start something or not. I knew I was still healing, but I also wanted to be better. Somehow, I equated starting a new relationship with 'being better' and I didn't realise it at the time.

But honestly, I'd been nearly normal by the time I left Harry and Pansy's in August. I hadn't fallen back into the pit of despair I'd lived in from October to April. I had thought about dating long before Blaise told me he was interested in me. I'd just never acted on it.

I was confusing myself even more.

Much to my shock, I couldn't see the future I'd once imagined with Draco anymore. When I had been stupid enough to believe he'd leave Astoria, I had dreamed up a silly little scenario with blonde children on Platform 934, a happy life where we were together. Now, there was barely a trace of it in my memory. I didn't know if my brain was trying to protect my heart or if I'd really moved on from Draco, but I found myself crying at the loss of it.

And then, behind my eyelids, I saw Blaise. He was standing right in front of me — like he had for years — just waiting for me. Always waiting for me to catch up to him.

I wasn't sure if I ever would, but I wanted to try. I wanted to talk to Kingsley, stay out of the mess with the Malfoys, and move on with my life completely.

On Monday, I would do that. I would talk to the Minister and find out what my options were.

But for now…

I packed the journals back into the trunk, grabbed my bag, and didn't think twice.

As I stepped into the Floo, my heart nearly skipped a beat in excitement. Ignoring Blaise wasn't the solution. I had to fix this; he had been right about one thing — we were happy before Draco came back into the picture.

And since Draco would never be an option for me, it was time for me to create a new fucking picture, one that he had no place in.

* * *

When I stepped into Blaise's flat, it was dark.

It was only nine o'clock. He never went to bed this early.

I walked from room to room, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. Chewing my lip, I debated calling him and reached into my bag again. There were no new messages when I opened my mobile.

Scrolling into my contacts, I hit send when his name was selected. It rang three times and then he answered.

"Hermione?"

In the background, there was music and laughter. It sounded like he was at a party, and my stomach dropped.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"I'm out with a friend. I couldn't — I didn't want to be alone all night again."

My heart squeezed when I thought about what those words could mean, especially coming from someone with Blaise's sexual past.

"I'm at your flat," I said quietly. "I'll… go back to my house. I'm sorry. It was silly of me to presume—"

"Stop, Tesoro. I'd rather be with you. I don't think I should Apparate, but if you come to get me, we can talk," he responded, his words a little more slurred than they'd usually be.

He was out somewhere — drunk — and I could hear females in the background. My stomach started to churn, even though I knew his actions might be perfectly innocent.

"Who are you with?"

"Just come to Falmouth. I'm at Sara's restaurant. We can stay here or we can go right back to my flat," he said, sounding nervous and frustrated.

_Sara_.

Remembering the way she'd touched him and overstayed her welcome on our first date, I imagined her dressed up, trying to convince Blaise that I wasn't worth the aggravation. I'd just come running to him, wanting to apologise and fix things, and he was with her. Every insecurity still present in me from my time with Draco came bubbling to the surface.

_I would never be enough_.

"We can just talk tomorrow. I have to go—"

"Hermione, don't! Please, just come get me. This isn't anything," he interrupted. "I swear to you, I stopped drinking almost an hour ago so I could sober up and get home. I didn't intend to get pissed."

In my mind, I saw Blaise through the years, a different woman on his arm at every function. They were all beautiful — usually brainless, but definitely beautiful — and I started to shake. He could talk his way into anyone's knickers, and I was sure that hadn't changed.

But, as soon as Draco and I had split, he'd been there for me whenever I needed him. He'd said he hadn't been with anyone else since then. That was nearly two years ago.

I wanted to make things work. He was just spending time with a friend, probably telling her what a horrible shrew I was. It wasn't any different from me spending time with Harry or Ron when times got hard…

"Okay," I replied, even though there was dread in my stomach. "I'm on my way."

Hearing his sigh of relief, I closed my mobile and stowed it in my bag. I focused on Falmouth, on the front of the restaurant, and Disapparated.

As soon as I materialised, Blaise's arms were around me and the scent of his cologne was filling my nostrils. He'd rushed outside to meet me. I returned the embrace and he murmured apologies into my hair, his lips pausing to drop a kiss on my head every so often. His hands roamed from the small of my back up to the back of my head, tangling in my hair and tilting my chin up so our eyes could meet.

"I'm so sorry," he said, and his anguish was visible. I'd hurt him over the past two days.

Not wanting to say it was okay — because the way he'd acted wasn't — I just nodded. He looked to my lips, nonverbally asking if he could kiss me, and I rose on my tiptoes to meet him. One of his hands curled gently around the side of my neck and the other dropped down to my back again, pulling me tight against his body.

After a minute, I broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Let me go in and say hello. I don't want to be rude."

He swallowed hard and nodded, gesturing for me to lead the way. When I crossed the threshold, I was surprised to see Mel sulking into a glass of wine, Sara sitting beside her doing the same. Sara was older than us and Mel was significantly younger. Their only connection, in my mind, was Blaise.

"You were here with Mel?"

He rubbed his face with his hands. "I was. I… She asked me to come with her."

The relief I'd felt when he kissed me immediately slipped away. "You told her about everything?"

"We were together all day yesterday, Hermione. It was pretty obvious I was upset," Blaise replied. "She called me today and asked if I wanted to get dinner and a drink. I'd pointed this place out to her—"

"Was this a date?" I snapped, and both women looked up at me.

Gods, I sounded like a shrew.

Blaise eyes widened in shock. "Of course not! I _love_ you."

Looking to Mel, I tried to see what she thought, but she only gave me a weak smile. "I know you're together, Hermione. I wouldn't have asked him on a date. I was just trying to be a good friend."

There was no possible way they'd had time to talk about this. I'd Apparated, and he was already outside…

The suspicious part of my brain said that he hadn't wanted me to see Mel, to know she was there with him in the restaurant where we'd had our first date.

"Okay," I said, promising myself I'd examine all of this more closely later. "I didn't know you were here. I just wanted to come in and say hello to Sara. I thought it would be rude if I didn't."

They both nodded, the whole situation extremely uncomfortable.

"Hello, Hermione. It's nice to see you again," Sara stated, placating me.

"Yes, you as well," I replied awkwardly.

Blaise's arm slung around my shoulders, and he said, "I've missed you, Tesoro. Take me home."

I could smell the firewhisky on his breath, and I wanted to glare at Mel and Sara for letting him get himself into this state. As he leaned on me, I wrapped an arm tightly around his waist.

"Well, it's obvious that he needs to be put to bed. I'll see you on Monday, Mel." I glanced at her and then to Sara. "Until next time."

Waving us off, she said, "Take care of him, Hermione. He needs you."

Her tone was less friendly than usual, and I knew that he had likely been telling them about our situation. She was angry with me.

As we started to walk away, Mel rose and grabbed my arm. When I met her eyes, she stood up straighter. "Don't hurt him. He doesn't deserve to have someone walking all over him."

Cocking my head at her, I replied, "I don't intend to do either of those things, but I fail to see how our relationship is any of your business."

"It affects more people than you realise," she stated boldly. "Everyone's been able to feel the tension in the office since Draco came back to work."

"Mel, that's enough," Blaise interrupted. "I'm fine. We had an argument. Hermione is not the only one to blame here."

She shrugged. "I saw the pictures of her and Draco, just like you did. It all makes sense to me now, the way things between you changed when he came back to work." Making eye contact with me, she continued, "It's just interesting, the way you and Draco glance at each other when you think no one's watching. It's almost like there was something more than friendship between you before his accident…"

Her voice trailed off and I could see the spark in her eyes. She likely wouldn't let it go.

"Draco, Blaise, and I have a complicated past. You need to back off."

Before she could respond, Blaise said, "Let's go home, Tesoro."

With Blaise draped over me, I turned towards the door. He was heavy, but I held him up. When we stepped outside, I immediately spun on the spot, Disapparating.

Seconds later, we landed in his living room and he crashed my lips against mine. I groaned and reciprocated the kiss as he backed me against the wall and leaned over me. I was still angry, still jealous, but I wanted to kiss him. I needed to kiss him.

I felt like the whole world was going to come crashing down around me, and Blaise had been my grounding force for months now. Whenever I was upset, I lost myself in him, even though I knew it wasn't the right thing to do.

Breaking the kiss, I looked up at him. "You're drunk. We shouldn't... We need to talk before we hop into bed."

My head thumped back against the wall as his lips moved to my neck, tempting me to change my mind.

"I know you, Hermione," he murmured. "You want to bury all your feelings with sex. You want to forget about everything that's wrong, at least for a little while."

Inhaling deeply, I said, "You're right. You're absolutely right. But we can't keep doing that." I pressed my hands to his chest. "Let's just… We should sleep and talk in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. As much as I wanted to shut my brain off, I had to stop avoiding my problems.

Reluctantly, Blaise stepped back and walked towards his bathroom, not furthering the conversation. I stayed where I was, the wall steadying me as I thought about how he'd gone out with Mel.

But Sara had been there, too — it was possible I was being overly suspicious.

Blaise didn't return so I retraced his steps, walking into the bedroom. I heard the shower running and cracked the bathroom door open. When I looked in, I saw him leaning against the wall, his face against his forearms. Quietly, I stripped down to nothing and entered the shower, wrapping my arms around him from behind.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, his slurred words muffled further by his arm. "I've fucked up the past two days."

"You're not the only one," I replied. "I shouldn't have agreed to work with him so closely. If I'd kept my distance—"

"He'd still want you. It makes no difference," he cut me off, turning in my arms. His back pressed against the tile and his chin tilted down, his eyes meeting mine. "He's always going to want you, and I was stupid to hope otherwise."

I swallowed hard. "When this case wraps, I think I'm going to change departments. Being around him every day… it's too much."

A look of shock settled over his features, but he didn't say anything. Trying to find the words, I just stared up at him, hoping he understood that I was doing it for us. There was no noise in the room, save for the water hitting the tiles and our skin before running down the drain.

He hadn't expected me to choose him, to choose our relationship over a friendship with Draco. That much was clear. While I hadn't explicitly told him how I felt about him, I thought he knew how much I cared.

However, with the way he looked right now, that wasn't the case. He needed to hear me say it. He wasn't going to believe this was real until I did, and I felt like I was losing him, especially when I thought about the way Mel had spoken to me tonight and the way she'd looked at him.

Finally, I caved, the words leaving my mouth in a rush. "I love you, Blaise. I want this to work. I don't want to go back to how I was before—"

Silencing me with a kiss, he pulled me flush against his naked body.

"I love you, too," he replied, breathless. "Gods, I love you so much. I missed you."

"I missed you, too."

His hands drifted down to squeeze my arse, testing my resolve. Once again, I pressed my palms against his chest, pushing back. "Blaise—"

"I know — not tonight," he said. "I'm drunk, but I understood. I'm not going to push."

I nodded. "Okay. Let's get you in bed, then."

After we dried off, Blaise settled into his side of the bed. I wrapped myself in a towel and said, "I'll be right back. I just want to shut off my mobile and get some Muggle aspirin for you. You'll need it in the morning."

His drooping eyelids finally closed all the way and I went out to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and thinking about the scene at Sara's restaurant. Now that he wasn't holding on to me, I was seeing things a little more clearly than I had before.

The way Mel's voice had lilted as she said ' _It's almost like there was something more than friendship between you_ ' made me nervous.

How much had Blaise told them? I could understand him complaining about the present, but had he told them about the past? Or was she just inferring that to get under my skin and drive a wedge between us?

Would she tell Draco if she knew the whole truth?

Honestly, I hoped that Blaise hadn't been that foolish; we'd never told anyone what had really happened, and for good reason.

And if he did tell Mel and Sara, he would have broken my trust in him, and I didn't think our relationship would survive that.

Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, I looked at his sleeping form, the glass of water and bottle of aspirin in my hand. Blaise had been my best friend for years now, my boyfriend for six months. The transition had felt so easy — so right — that I hadn't really questioned anything.

Sure, I'd been a bit hesitant at first, but I'd chalked that up to fear since this was the first relationship I'd had since Draco.

And now, maybe because I'd read through all the journals earlier, I was starting to see similarities between Draco and Blaise that I hadn't before. They were both jealous and possessive, always wanting to mark their territory in front of others, for lack of a better comparison. Last night and today, Blaise had begged me to forgive him, to come back, the way that Draco had every time I tried to break off the affair.

Blaise had met me outside the restaurant, away from others, the way Draco always had. In fact, when I thought about it, I'd never spent time with Blaise's family or friends. Not once in six months. We were always with my friends — Harry and Pansy, Luna and Ron, the other Weasleys and their spouses, Hannah and Neville.

As realisation after realisation started hitting me, I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep.

Had I simply replaced Draco with Blaise?

Maybe I hadn't changed at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I just wanted to let you all know that during November, I will not be responding to chapter comments. I am anticipating a very full work schedule and will be devoting my free time to trying to finish this story. I know that I won't be able to get 50,000 words written if my focus is split. I hate doing this because I love the reader interaction portion of posting. Just know that I will be reading all of your lovely responses, and I appreciate them so much.
> 
> Additionally, next week's chapter will post on Halloween, and it's a big one... So, am I going to be handing out tricks or treats? 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	33. 18th June 2007

**Hermione — 18th June 2007**

* * *

On Monday morning, I walked into the office with Blaise beside me. When we'd talked things through yesterday, I had made it very clear that the possessive behavior at work had to stop. He couldn't kiss me and constantly come into my office.

While he'd agreed, I wasn't sure if he would actually follow through with it or not. It seemed like he was going to try, and that made me happy. I was still feeling conflicted about the events of Saturday night, unsure why he'd been with Mel or if he'd told her anything about my past with Draco. Luckily, I was meeting with Penelope today, and I was hoping I'd be able to sort through my thoughts.

Maybe she'd be able to put my fears to rest.

When I'd walked in, I saw Draco at his desk, already focused on whatever he was working on. My eyes automatically fell on him, just like they had for the past three years. At this point, I didn't think that would ever change, especially since he was so easily recognisable.

Unpacking my bag, I set my mobile, my travel coffee mug, and my iPod on my desk. I kicked my shoes off and settled into my chair, mentally going through my to-do list for the day. First and foremost, I knew I had to send Kingsley a note to find out when he would be able to fit me into his schedule. I grabbed a small sheet of parchment from my desk and dipped my quill, taking a deep breath. When I touched the tip of it to the parchment, I felt my stomach lurch.

Nerves were threatening to get the best of me, but I wouldn't let them.

As I wrote out the message, I forced myself to breathe, to be brave. I could talk to Kingsley about my future at the Ministry — I'd done it before. This conversation didn't set anything in stone. I was just going to get the information I needed to make a decision.

Right after I signed my name, I folded it up and sent it off, not giving myself time to second guess. The little note floated out my open door and off to Kingsley's office.

Feeling a bit better now that it was actually done, I looked at the small pile of requests I'd left behind on Friday. I took the one from the bottom of the stack, knowing it was the oldest, and got to work.

Just as I was finishing the first request, a return note from Kingsley arrived, informing me that he had a small window of time to speak with me this afternoon if I was available. I responded in the affirmative, letting him know I'd be there, and refocused on my work.

At ten o'clock, the alarm I'd set in my phone went off, letting me know that I had to get over to St. Mungo's for my appointment. I tried to push down the disappointment I felt; I'd thought Draco would come to apologise for his behaviour on Friday, but he hadn't.

It was probably for the best.

Slipping my feet back into my heels, I reached for my bag again. When I turned towards the door, he was there, like my thoughts had summoned him.

"I was hoping we could talk," he said.

"Talk?" I asked, staring at him and wondering what he could have possibly remembered now.

Draco nodded. "Yes. Friday… I know I was an arse—"

I held up my hand, stopping him. "You can kiss your wife whenever you'd like."

"That… Well, that's not what I was referring to," he replied, a look of confusion on his face. "I meant I should've talked to you rather than listening to Blaise."

I felt myself flushing, the heat travelling up into my cheeks. Of course that was what it had been; he didn't have the same jealousy-filled memories that I carried with me.

For lack of anything better to do, I looked down at my watch and said, "I'm really sorry, but I have a doctor's appointment and have to go. I'll be back this afternoon, though."

I could tell he was chewing his cheek. "Okay. I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Friday and to talk things through."

My heart thumped. "Thank you, Malfoy. I'll see you later on."

Running his hand through his hair, he turned and walked out in front of me. Blaise and Mel were standing together near their desks and they both looked up at us. I didn't miss the way her lips quirked up, like I'd just confirmed something for her. Blaise's eyes landed on my face and his jaw tightened.

Unable to deal with them at the moment, I gave a little wave and headed for the door.

* * *

"It's been a while, Hermione," Penelope began. "How have you been since the last time we spoke?"

"Almost a year," I mused aloud. "Well, shortly after the last time I met with you, I moved back to my house and started living on my own again."

She nodded. "And you look good. I can see you're taking care of yourself."

"I've had my moments, but nowhere near as bad as before. And I — well, I'm sure you know, even if that sounds a little full of myself — I started a relationship with Blaise." Twisting my hands in my lap, I continued. "It's been about six months, almost seven."

"You don't look very happy about that," she stated. "Is that what you're here to talk about?"

Absentmindedly, I looked around her office, my eyes scanning the room even though I'd been there so many times before. "Yes and no? I'm having some problems, and I wanted to talk them out with someone who isn't directly involved."

"Okay. Let's look at them one at a time."

I started walking her through my relationship with Blaise, how we'd gotten together, what my friends had said, how it had felt easy and natural to fall into something with him. She had a charmed quill taking notes, so I was able to ramble quickly, my mouth nearly keeping up with my mind.

"And then my ex came back into the picture," I said, averting my eyes. "We're not together, and he's not made any advances, but I'm confused."

She assessed me, her green eyes scanning my expression. "What do you mean, he came back into the picture?"

"We worked together before. He took a leave of sorts, and now he's come back to work. I also work with Blaise, so I've been feeling rather uncomfortable."

"And Blaise knows about this ex?" Penelope asked.

I nodded. "He does. He knew about the relationship while we were carrying on. He knows the whole story, and he's wary of my interactions with the ex."

"I can understand that," she began. "How is he behaving? Possessive? Jealous? Overbearing?"

"All of the above," I answered. "It's been driving me mad, if I'm honest."

Rearranging herself in her chair, Penelope thought for a moment. "Have you been interacting with your ex at all?"

"It's unavoidable. We work together. I'm the researcher and runes expert for the whole department."

"And did Blaise's behavior shift from day one? As soon as the ex was back at work?" she asked.

Thinking back to the beginning of May, I realised it had. "Yes. The very first day, he made sure to stake a claim on me in front of D—my ex. He was always touching me, coming into my office and shutting the door, things like that."

"Well, that's not okay," she said. "Have you given him any reason to doubt you?"

"So, this weekend, we had a bit of a row. He brought up the fact that I haven't told him I loved him," I explained, trying to lay out as many details and be as honest as I could. "I haven't felt ready to, but when we talked on Saturday night and made up, I said it."

I could tell she was forming a theory in her mind. "Let's go back. What was the row over?"

Fuck. How was I supposed to tell her about the photos without divulging who the ex was?

I squirmed in my seat, scrambling for a plausible scenario that wouldn't out Draco as an adulterer.

"This is all confidential, Hermione," she reminded me. "Just tell me what happened."

"I know. It's just… I've never told you who he is, and I didn't think I ever would," I started to explain. "He's married, and everyone knows him and his wife."

"Confidential," Penelope replied.

Swallowing my doubts, I nodded. "Okay. Well, the ex and I were photographed together." I looked up just in time to see her eyes widen, realising who I meant. "And Blaise saw the photos before I did. He was extremely upset."

"They were best friends at Hogwarts, no?"

Her question made me feel terrible. "They were, but then everything changed when Draco and I…"

"When you were having the affair?" she asked.

"Yes," I breathed, the word so quiet I was surprised she could hear. "Blaise knew about it nearly the whole time, and he discouraged both of us from continuing. I thought he was just being a good friend to Astoria, but now…"

When my voice trailed off, she continued my thought. "Now you're wondering if he wanted you for himself."

"I suppose, but it's more than that. I'm noticing so many similarities between Blaise and Draco, and I know they were close before, so it makes sense that they would have things in common, but the way they treat me… It's almost eerie."

She gestured for me to continue.

"Well, Draco was always jealous. Whenever someone else would approach me, even though I was technically single, he would always find a way to interrupt. Or he would say something about it after the fact and make me feel guilty," I told her. "And obviously, since our relationship was a secret, he hid me from everyone in his life. Well, except Blaise. And this weekend, I realised that Blaise has been hiding me, too. I don't know if it's intentional, but I've not really met his family or friends."

I thought of Sara. I'd met her, technically, but that was because he took me to her restaurant.

"Okay, I've met one friend. But doesn't that seem odd after this length of time?" I asked.

Penelope shrugged her shoulders. "Every relationship is different."

"On Friday, I asked him to give me space," I said, moving along to the next point. "He sent me a bunch of text messages — do you know about mobile phones?"

"I do," she confirmed.

"Well, he was pleading with me, and Draco used to do the same every time I tried to walk away." I stood and started pacing, needing to move and expend some of my nervous energy. "I know that he just wanted to fix things, but when I listened to and read the begging, it made me think of Draco. And not in a good way."

Nodding, she let me keep speaking.

"And then I decided to see him Saturday night — I'd originally said we would talk Sunday — and he wasn't home. I called him and he was drunk at a restaurant with another coworker and a female friend."

"How did you feel about that?"

"Honestly? I was upset," I admitted. "I know it's unreasonable for me to want him sitting home pining for me, but he was out with two females, and it just didn't sit right with me. Especially given both our pasts."

"Were you worried he was cheating on you?" Penelope questioned.

Taking a moment to think, I said, "On some level, yes. He was the type to be with a different woman every week before. I thought he would be home and that we'd talk."

"Okay, and did you equate this to something Draco used to do?"

"Obviously Draco would leave me to go home to Astoria." When she didn't jump in, I continued. "But also, when I called him, he asked me to come get him because he couldn't Apparate. He met me outside rather than having me come in to say hello, and the women he was with were mutual friends. Or acquaintances, at the very least."

"So that brings us back to how you feel like he's hiding you in the same way."

"Yes! Or he's hiding something."

"So you're suspicious of him," she stated. "Has he done anything to make you think he'd stray?"

I sighed. "No, not really, but I just feel like this relationship is turning into a copy of the one with Draco, minus the married part." Running my fingers through my hair, I kept walking around the office. "I mean, I'm burying hard conversations with sex. I'm hiding my feelings when I think they'll upset him. I'm making myself available just about whenever he needs me. It's not healthy, but I don't just want to give up."

"It does sound like you're falling back into old habits," Penelope replied. "Are you looking to break them? Or—"

"Yes," I interrupted. "What if Blaise and I could really work and I'm sabotaging things because I'm behaving the same way I did with Draco?"

"So I have a few things I want to point out," she began. "You tend to lose yourself in romantic relationships. Whenever you start something with someone new, you put yourself into it completely. That's not a bad thing, except for the fact that you let whoever you're with almost dictate how things go."

My initial reaction was to retort, to tell her that wasn't true, but I'd just said that I always made myself available whenever my partner needed me. I hid my feelings to keep them happy.

Mentally swallowing that pill, I nodded, letting her continue.

"It's a really hard thing to overcome, but it's definitely something we can work on. We just need to figure out why specifically you do it," Penelope said. "Do you have any theories?"

"I do, but I want to think on it a bit more," I replied. "I do think that the biggest one is that I'm afraid of being left behind."

"By who?"

Feeling my heart start racing, I took a deep breath to try to slow it. "Everyone, honestly. After the war, things got messy, and Harry and Ron moved on with their lives, and my parents were gone…"

When I trailed off, she looked at me, waiting to see if I was going to continue. I didn't — I'd given her all she really needed to know at this point.

"Okay, so abandonment issues. That's probably a rather large part of why you behave the way you do, especially when it comes to men."

It sounded so horrible when she phrased it that way, but I knew she was right. I was sick of being alone, so I threw myself into the deep end of relationships, and usually teetered on the edge of drowning. Wanting to get better — to be better — I decided that I had to listen to her closely, to hear her out and then decide what the best course of action for me was. I had to try.

Penelope rose and moved towards her bookshelf, her eyes skimming the titles. "I am usually more of a practical, hands-on type person, but I know that you absorb a lot through reading," she explained. "I'm going to give you a couple of books to look at before we meet again. I'm going to recommend we start talking at least once a week or every other week again."

"That's honestly probably a good idea," I told her. "And I'd love to read up on whatever you want me to."

"I think you need to look at a few things. Why are you codependent when you get into a relationship? Abandonment issues can stem from many things, even if it's simply that you've pushed people away. You expected them to stay no matter what you did—"

"Like Ron and Harry," I interrupted.

"Right. And I think your life has taken a very different path, and the perfectionist in you is having a hard time dealing with that," she continued. "I want you to learn that it's okay to be happy on your own or to have bad days and share your feelings with your partner."

"But he's — I can't tell him that I feel conflicted about Draco."

Penelope shook her head. "Even if you're not saying it, I'm sure he can feel it and that's likely creating tension between you."

I knew she was right, but I still didn't feel I could talk to Blaise about it. She stepped towards me and held out the books.

"Thank you. I know that it's been a long time, so I appreciate that you were willing to see me again," I said, knowing we were nearing the end of the appointment. "I honestly didn't think I would be back here, but I can't let myself get to the point I was at before."

"I'm glad you called, Hermione. That shows how much you've changed, even if it doesn't feel like it right now. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you need anything between now and your next appointment. I'm hoping that the schedule will allow for you to come back next week."

I moved over to her and shook her hand. She gave mine a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I'll see you next week," I replied, ending the appointment.

As I walked out the door, her books in my bag, I knew I had made the right choice; I needed to sort myself out before I was a complete fucking mess again.

* * *

Walking back into the DMLE, my eyes scanned the main room again. Draco was nowhere to be found, and Blaise was missing, too. Immediately, my nerves took over, my stomach churning. I looked around, and I saw Draco, Blaise, and Mel in a conference room, likely talking about the potioneer case and what had happened in Falmouth on Friday.

I had roughly an hour until my meeting with Kingsley, so I headed into my office, leaving the door wide open. Flipping through the pile of requests on my desk, I found one that looked relatively simple that I could complete with no actual research. One of the older Aurors was looking for information on a spell that he'd likely used multiple times. I rolled my eyes. Some men just waved their wands around without realising exactly what they were doing.

"Bloody idiots," I muttered, scrawling out the response to their questions.

By the time I finished, it was time for me to head up to Kingsley's office. I took a deep breath and grabbed my wand, not bothering to close my door on the way out. I didn't anticipate that I'd be gone long. I nearly bumped into Draco and Blaise, but neither said anything to me.

When I got upstairs, Kingsley greeted me warmly, the way he always did. I took a seat in the chair across from his and crossed my legs..

He looked over at me. "So what did you want to talk about, Hermione?"

"Well, I've been thinking about possibly changing careers," I said. "I'd still like to work within the Ministry, but I think I need to move on from the DMLE."

"Is there a particular reason why?"

I shook my head. "No. I just—I want to learn something new. Grow a bit. I was thinking that I might like to do more magic-based research, in the Department of Mysteries."

I wasn't going to admit to the Minister for Magic that I was looking to change jobs to distance myself from an ex-boyfriend.

Folding his hands together, he rested his elbows on the desk. "I suppose I can see that. Would you be willing to wait until I filled your position? Or at least until Harry gets back?"

"Whichever comes first would be fine," I replied.

"Do you have any preference on what you'd like to do?"

While I wanted to say that I was interested in memory modification, something was stopping me. Would I really be moving on if I was focusing all of my attention on the thing that had ruined my life twice over?

"I have NEWTs in—"

Kingsley laughed. "Every single subject. Outstandings, yes?"

"Yes, but—"

"Your credentials won't be in question, Hermione. I can assure you of that," he told me. "Just be sure this is a change you want to make before you do it because the Department of Mysteries doesn't really like giving employees up once they've started there."

My leg bounced nervously. "I'll make sure to think it through properly. I just wanted to see if there were any openings before I got my hopes up."

"We'll make a spot for you wherever you want. I know you don't like the special treatment but, ultimately, you're going to get it no matter where you go."

As uncomfortable as that made me, after nine years, I knew he was absolutely right. I would always end up with unwanted attention and more open doors than nearly anyone else in the wizarding world. Thankfully, I was more than up to any challenges that would be thrown at me. I wasn't just an empty head with a famous face.

Kingsley glanced at the clock. "Did you need anything else? I only had this very small window of time…"

"No, that was all I wanted to talk about," I said, rising from my seat. "Thank you for checking into things for me, Minister."

"Kingsley," he corrected. "I think you can call me by my first name after all this time."

"Thank you, Kingsley," I said. "You'll send me a note? Or an owl?"

He nodded. "Of course. I'm sure it won't be more than a few days."

"Excellent."

After another handshake, I left his office and took the lifts back to the DMLE. As I walked through the department, I saw Blaise and Mel in a conference room on their own. She was talking and he looked frustrated, his arms crossed over his chest. My heart started pounding in my chest, but I didn't go to interrupt them; I had to trust that Blaise wouldn't betray my confidence — that he wouldn't fall for Mel's advances, if she made any.

I held my head up high and walked back to my office, shocked to see Draco examining my bookshelf. His fingers froze over the spine of one book. One very rare, very fucking bad book. One book that would unravel the web of lies we'd caught him in.

As he pulled it from the shelf, I cleared my throat and he quickly turned around.

"Malfoy," I greeted. "What are you doing in here?"

* * *

**Draco — 18th June 2007**

* * *

I needed to talk to Granger.

Since last Friday, I'd felt guilty about storming out of her office. I'd fucked up royally by believing what Blaise had said without hearing her out. He had been jealous of me — of Granger working with me — since I'd come back to work.

It seemed like he felt threatened, and I wondered if my feelings had really been that obvious to everyone around me.

They must have been, given the way both Astoria and Blaise were acting.

I was a fucking sap, infatuated with a woman who was not my wife.

_She definitely was not your wife._

The bookstore clerk from Knockturn Alley's voice played in my head. Granger had admitted we'd been there together as friends.

Yes, definitely _not_ my wife.

_There are some things you can just never forget, not really. She'll come back to you._

That phrase had been replaying in my mind all weekend. What had he meant? Granger would come back to me? My feelings for her would come back?

If he'd meant the latter, he was definitely right.

These feelings — this crush, for lack of a better word, even though it was so much more — had been part of me for nearly ten years. If she'd asked me to walk her pet Blast-Ended Skrewt while we were at Hogwarts, I would've asked her how far and endured every sting or sucker or explosion if it made her happy.

With a sigh, I continued thinking.

From the time I got home Friday, Astoria had given me a wide berth, only really interacting with me to tell me that if I continued to spend time with Granger, she'd find a way to divorce me and make my life a living hell. It didn't matter that it had been for work — she didn't want me near her. My head had nearly spun from the change in her attitude; when Astoria came to my office, she'd said she wasn't happy, but she hadn't seemed angry, either.

But then I'd hurt her when I told her I needed time to think.

When I tried to explain why a friendship with Granger wasn't a big deal, she'd insisted on going out, saying she and Daphne had made plans to visit Theo Nott's new club.

As I watched her teeter out the door on ridiculously high heels, wearing a tiny scrap of a dress, I felt… nothing. I didn't care that she was leaving the house near naked. I was still angry with her for lying to me about my friendship with Granger, for giving me an ultimatum. At that moment, I honestly couldn't have cared less if she had a one-off with a random bloke.

I certainly wouldn't be scratching any itches for her.

And then I realised it was absolutely ridiculous that I was okay with my wife fucking another man. I was supposed to love her, to be protective and possessive of her, but I wasn't. In fact, the thought of Granger _kissing_ Blaise filled me with more jealousy than the thought of Astoria having sex with some faceless bloke. There was something very wrong with that.

By the time I left for work this morning, I'd been dying to get out of the house. It had been filled with tension since Friday night, and I was ready for a break.

I'd missed Granger and Blaise walking in together, but by the way he was smiling, I was sure they'd made up properly over the weekend. When I thought about it, I squeezed my quill between my fingers so hard that it snapped.

Seeing them come into the office every morning was a special form of torture. He had been my best mate all through Hogwarts, and since I'd been back at work, I'd watched him pull Granger in more and more, limiting her contact with me whenever possible.

Even though she and I had been friends before my accident. And, from what I could remember, Blaise and I had still been close, too.

I thought of the way he'd jumped into the potioneer case, working hard to close it. Of course, as soon as he'd seen me giving Granger that little side hug in Falmouth, he'd gotten pissed, telling me in no uncertain terms to stay away from her.

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that everyone wanted to keep us apart. Astoria, Blaise, Potter... I was growing more and more suspicious that we'd been a little bit more than friends at one point or another. The opinions and feelings were much too strong. It couldn't be all in my head.

Knowing she must have just stepped out for a moment, I decided to wait for her to come back. As I looked around her office, I saw little snippets of her life. There were a few photos, a lot of books, some Muggle gadgets on her desk. It all added up to years spent in this space. From the bits and pieces I could remember, I knew she'd been in this position since the end of the war. And, if I was honest about it, I expected her to stay with Potter until the day one of them died. They were so close — and had been for over fifteen years now — that I wondered how Pansy could even stand it sometimes.

I moved to the bookshelf beside her desk, my eyes scanning the titles that Hermione Granger deemed worthy of taking up space in her office. There were the normal books on hexes, jinxes, and curses, along with the expected defensive magic texts and tracking spells. Runes and Arithmancy, her special areas of interest.

However, there were a few oddities that stood out to me. I traced the spine of a particular book with my fingertips, wondering how she'd gotten a copy of it. It was very old, and there were only a dozen or so copies still in existence. We'd had a copy in the display case in the Manor library, but my father told me it had gone missing. Once I'd remembered the Dark Lord had created Horcruxes, I'd figured he'd stolen it.

It was all about soul magic. There was information about souls that had been split — like Voldemort's — and soul mates, theories on what happened to a soul after the Dementor's Kiss and natural death.

The volume was so old it didn't even have a true title. It was stamped with _Anima_ , or Latin for 'soul'.

A book like that one had no place on a shelf in the DMLE, unprotected and visible to anyone who walked through the door.

Just as I was pulling it from the shelf to look at it, Hermione cleared her throat, drawing my attention away from the book.

"Dra—Malfoy, what are you doing in here?" she asked, clearly startled by my presence.

I shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you, Granger. I figured you'd be back since you left your office door open."

She nodded. "I'm back, obviously. I was just… I had a quick meeting with Kingsley."

"Taking over the Ministry before you turn thirty?" I teased, trying to get her to smile at me.

Like she had before the damn paper had printed those photos and I'd acted like an arse.

She shook her head. "No, definitely not. Just talking to him about other opportunities. I think it's time for me to do something else."

Granger was potentially leaving the DMLE, and I felt my stomach clench at the thought. I'd just gotten back here, only just started to rebuild the friendship that had existed between us. She couldn't leave now.

Merlin, this witch could still tie me up in knots like we were fifteen years old.

She was visibly nervous, wringing her hands and standing still in the doorway.

"But I don't understand. The whole time I've been back, you've seemed happy here, working with Potter."

"Enjoying working with my best friend isn't a reason to stay," she said quietly. "I want to grow and change and learn new things. I want to help people."

"What about Blaise?" I asked, looking her in the eyes. "Don't you want to keep working with him?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "Honestly, I don't want to work with him at all anymore. You've seen how strained things have gotten between us over work and... certain things."

"Me, you mean."

She shrugged. "But you're not the only reason. I never intended to start a relationship with someone I was working directly with. It's a lot, spending our whole day together here and then all our free time together."

"Right. I felt that with Astoria before I came back to work," I answered.

At my words, silence fell between us, and I wondered what she was thinking.

I tried to think of a way to prolong the conversation, to keep her here with me for just another few minutes. I turned back to her bookcase and pulled _Anima_ from the shelf.

"This is a very rare text, Granger. It should be somewhere safer than your office."

"Honestly, who is going to steal something from the DMLE? I have protection charms on it to keep it safe from the elements," she said, rambling. "And besides, it will soon be in the Department of Mysteries with me, and it could be quite valuable to my research."

She was babbling, trying to distract me from the issue at hand. I didn't let her. "We used to have a copy in the Manor. Where did you get it?"

I was cradling the book in my hands, about to open the cover, and the color drained from her face, like she'd just remembered something about it. I was even more intrigued to learn where it had come from. She reached for her wand, and I quickly put up a Shield Charm. Wondering if Aurors had seized it from the Manor, I opened the cover.

I was not prepared for what I saw. There was no way I _ever_ would have been prepared for it, even with my suspicions. In no universe would I have been worthy of Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl, the Brightest Witch of the Age…

But, tucked within the cover of this book, there was a strip of Muggle photos, the kind that didn't move. We were sitting beside each other, smiling and laughing, and in the very last one, I was kissing her, my hand wrapped possessively around the back of her neck.

On the inside of the cover, I had inscribed a note:

_Hermione,_

_You are my soulmate, my other half. I've known it since before we'd even touched. I love you, and I need you, and if you read the chapter on soulmates, I think you'll understand why I feel the way I do._

_When we're not together, I feel your absence and ache for your touch. It's physical and mental and emotional all wrapped into one._

_Yours, Draco_

Needless to say, I had a lot of fucking questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, would you consider this a trick or a treat?
> 
> Special thanks to coyg81 for the photo strip and to my team for helping me with a last-minute change this morning!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


	34. Hermione - 18th June 2007

It was like a scene out of a horror movie.

I watched as Draco pulled the one book I didn't want him to ever open off of my bookshelf, my stomach flipping and dropping. Instinctively, I went for my wand. I didn't know if it was to summon the book or to Stun him, but he was faster, his reflexes much more in tune from his Auror training.

I knew what he'd written in that book and that I hadn't bothered to conceal it after I'd Obliviated him. When I'd first come back to work, my fingers would trace the letters of the note he'd written on the inside cover. This book was worth tens of thousands of Galleons — maybe hundreds of thousands — and he had written in it and given it to me for Christmas. Thinking back, I remembered being furious that he'd desecrated such a rare text but, over time, that little note came to mean so much to me.

When he said there _used_ to be a copy in the Manor, my heart stopped. How had he known it was gone? Did he look for it after he woke? Or did he just know its value and wonder where it was?

As he opened the cover, his eyes immediately cast down, and I could see them moving back and forth as he read. I waited with bated breath, watching as he took in the words he'd written nearly two and a half years ago. What I was not prepared for, however, was what happened next. Setting the book down on my desk, he held up a strip of photos for me to see.

And then the memory crashed over me, Narcissa in my office, talking about how I should have a conversation with Lucius if I wanted to know how he'd found my parents, how she'd saved those photos from being thrown away. In that moment, I wished she hadn't, that she'd just let the physical reminders of the memories vanish with the rest of the rubbish they'd cleared from Draco's bedroom.

Now I'd have to explain…

I quickly closed the door, knowing that this wouldn't be a quiet conversation.

"Granger, when is this from?" he asked quietly, so much more quietly than I ever would've expected.

I felt tears welling in my eyes, and I was panicking. I knew I needed to answer him, but I'd never really prepared for this moment. Unsure of what else to say, I squeaked out, "We need to go to the Manor."

And it made sense to me. This wasn't my original plan. It had been Lucius and Astoria's.

"The Manor?"

I nodded and gestured to the book. "Tuck the photos back in and bring the book with you. Your father… He needs to be the one to explain all of this. I can't. I won't."

Draco suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him. As soon as his skin touched mine, my blood sang, despite the roughness. When I was closer to him, standing nearly flush against his body, he looked down his nose and hissed, "When, Granger? Please tell me when."

We hadn't been this close since Falmouth, and I couldn't stop my eyes from glancing at his lips, the same way I had in the photo. With a slow inhale, I tried to pull it together.

"This was in September," I murmured. "September of 2005."

His eyes widened marginally. "September 2005. About a year and a half after I married Astoria."

As his brain started putting the pieces together, I felt sick. Even without the actual memories, it wasn't a difficult mystery to solve. In fact, it was quite simple.

Mentally, I berated myself for keeping that bloody book with those ridiculous fucking photos in the office in the first place. I squeezed my eyes shut, and a tear slipped out. Instinctively, Draco reached forward and brushed it away, but after he touched my face, he recoiled like he'd been burned.

"I had an affair. With you," he said, correctly deducing the implications. I nodded in confirmation, keeping my eyes closed. "For how long?"

"It doesn't matter, Draco—"

He cut me off. "It does matter, Granger! We had an affair, and I can barely even remember speaking to you, let alone…"

The moment he realised exactly what had happened, I saw anger and hatred bloom in his eyes. When he asked his next question, I well and truly lost it.

"We had an affair and you Obliviated me, didn't you?"

There was no point in lying to him; he'd already seen the proof. I looked him squarely in the eyes, tears running down my cheeks, and replied, "Yes, I did."

Our hearts both shattered at the same time, pieces falling to the floor and mixing together again. For a split second, I thought this meant reconciliation or acknowledgment of our mutual feelings.

And then he stepped back, pulling away and taking more pieces of me with him. I could barely breathe, the edges of the room blurry from my tears.

"Granger, you had better start fucking explaining. Now."

I was frozen in place, my eyes unable to look away from the expression of rage he wore. "We need to go to the Manor," I said again. "Your father—"

"—has nothing to do with this!" he shouted, prompting me to throw up a Silencing Charm.

Glaring at him, I took a step forward, moving back into his space. "Your father has _everything_ to do with this, Draco. Look at the photos. Do you honestly think the girl in those photos, the one who looks so in love, would've given that up without a good reason?"

He examined me closely, with more scrutiny than he had in years, and I felt myself blushing. He appeared to be thinking, completely at a loss for words.

"I know you're angry with me right now. I promise after you hear the whole story, you're going to be glad you won't see me everyday anymore," I murmured.

He narrowed his eyes at me, recalling something. "Potter and Blaise both told me that you'd been through a bad break-up and that was why you had been struggling last year. They meant us? I'm the wanker of an ex-boyfriend they went on about?"

A completely inappropriate laugh escaped my lips as I continued to cry. "Yes, it was you."

"How long, Granger?" he questioned.

With a sigh, I confessed. "From your b-birthday in 2004 until October of 2005."

At my admission, he looked absolutely horrified. "So the whole time I was married? We started things up that fast?"

I nodded, knowing he didn't need me to say anything more. He was bright enough to put it all together.

"But what about Astoria? Granger, please, I need to know—"

He seemed genuinely distressed that he'd hurt Astoria, and it knocked the wind out of me. I thought he had been getting closer to me, that he still felt _something_.

But maybe I was wrong.

"I'll tell you everything, but your father needs to be there. I need him to tell you _why_ all this happened. I can't — I won't take all the blame for it. I just won't."

Like a ton of bricks, the implications of my statement came crashing down on him. "October of 2005. My accident… There was no accident, was there?"

I shook my head, not able to look at him while I confessed.

"That must have been one hell of a Memory Charm. I was fucking unconscious for days."

Glaring at me, he picked up the book and the photos, his eyes lingering on them. I wandlessly summoned my handbag, and we walked out of my office. Blaise was waiting right outside the door, likely concerned that I'd been in there alone with Draco, a Silencing Charm in place. When he realised I'd been crying, he immediately stepped forward, grabbing my arm.

"For Salazar's sake! Will the two of you stop grabbing onto me?" I snapped. "I don't like being manhandled!"

We drew a few stares from other people in the DMLE — Mel in particular — but nothing fazed Draco. He simply stood toe to toe with Blaise, speaking to him as if no one could hear the conversation. "Did you know, Zabini?"

I quickly interjected. "Blaise, we're going to the Manor to talk to Lucius. Do you want to come, as well?"

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Draco commented.

Blaise looked at me and, after a second, realised what my pointed comment meant, especially when paired with Draco's question. He looked at the book in Draco's hands and pursed his lips, likely remembering that it had been a gift I treasured. I just nodded, trying to relay that Draco had found out about everything. He was about to learn all of our secrets, all of the lies he'd been told over the past year. It was likely that he'd end up hating everyone involved — anyone who knew anything — from his family to Blaise to Harry and Pansy.

And me. Especially me.

"Hermione, do you want me to go get Harry?" Blaise asked, earning himself a furious glare from Draco.

"Of course Potter was bloody well in on this," he hissed, and I quickly cast a _Muffliato_ , not wanting the other people in the department to hear the vitriol that was sure to come. "And you, Zabini? You went along with this because you wanted her for yourself? Are you happy to have my sloppy seconds?"

I was absolutely mortified.

We were in the middle of the DMLE, surrounded by our co-workers, and Draco was ready to explode. Looking to Blaise, I said, "Go to Grimmauld. Tell Harry we're going to the Manor and that I'll be by afterwards. It's nearly five, so we're not leaving outrageously early."

Blaise immediately strode to the lifts, leaving me to deal with an irate Draco. I looked up at him, but his face was hard and angry. The man who usually gazed at me with pining and adoration was gone. Knowing how much physical touch had always meant to him, I reached out and laid my hand on his arm, but he yanked it away from me petulantly.

"Do _not_ touch me, Granger. Don't you fucking dare."

When the tears threatened to start spilling again, I retraced Blaise's path, moving quickly and exiting the department with Draco hot on my heels. I could feel his stare burning into my back. In his eyes, I'd seen the rage and confusion, the desire to both scream at me and press me against a wall, to circle back to the first time we'd ever really touched.

But, of course, he didn't remember that.

The lift ride was uncomfortable, Draco's anger and self-control radiating off him in waves. I bit down into my lower lip, trying to keep the tears and the explanation at bay. A few times, he looked over at me, and I made sure to meet his eyes.

It was too much. Everything about this situation was so much harder than I ever could have imagined it would be.

When the lift doors opened, I walked out quickly. As always, Draco let me take the lead. I didn't look back to see if his arm twitched with the desire to wrap around me or simply settle a hand at the small of my back. I didn't want to know.

Silently, we made our way to the Floo, stepping in side by side and shouting our destination.

There was no time to warn Lucius and Narcissa. We unceremoniously arrived in the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor, and Draco turned his ire on me immediately. "I want to know everything, Granger! I want to know what really happened to my fucking head, and I want to know what made you think you had the fucking right—"

Draco was suddenly silenced, though his lips kept moving. I turned towards the staircase and saw Lucius standing there, wand pointed at his son. He looked at me questioningly, panic written all over the lines of his face. "I take it he somehow found out?"

Confirming his worst fears, I swallowed hard and nodded. "Narcissa brought me some photos you found, and I had them tucked inside a book Draco gave me ages ago. He recognised the book and opened it before I could stop him. I had forgotten about the pictures."

The irony was not lost on me — I had forgotten something, and that little slip was going to lead to Draco remembering everything.

Draco stomped his foot indignantly and removed his wand from his pocket, aiming it at his father. Lucius released the Silencing Charm and Draco's voice boomed into the room. "—must be fucking nice to know what's going on! I'm glad you two somehow became such great friends!"

Before he began speaking, Lucius took a deep breath. "Draco, please calm down. We will tell you everything and return all of your memories now that you know—"

"I want to know why they were fucking taken in the first place!" he bellowed.

Narcissa swept into the room, quickly evaluating the situation. She walked over to Draco, laying a delicate hand on his chest. "Draco, I know this is upsetting. I was upset when I found out, too. Let's all sit down."

Lucius looked to his wife. "I think you should go and retrieve Astoria."

This was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. I was going to be trapped in the Manor with all the Malfoys and Blaise, reliving some of the worst memories of my life.

Watching the man who I'd loved more than anything start to hate me.

Nodding, Narcissa made her way to the Floo, calling out Draco and Astoria's address before vanishing in a flash of green flames.

I watched as Draco flinched, clearly not expecting his wife to have been in on the deception. "Astoria… she knew? She knew about the affair?"

"Of course she did. Why else would she have kept you from going back to work for so long?" Draco closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his temples. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew it would be unwelcome, just like it had been in the Ministry. I didn't want him to try to pull away again, so I turned to Lucius. "Blaise will be on his way shortly. He Floo'd over to see Harry and let him know I'd be by after."

"And will Aurors knock down my doors again?" Lucius asked.

Shaking my head, I replied, "No. I'm just… I won't be able to be alone tonight."

Draco scoffed. "You have your wonderful boyfriend, Granger. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to stay with you."

Warily, Lucius suggested we head to a sitting room. Before we had the chance to, though, Blaise came through the Floo and was at my side in an instant, wrapping his arm around my waist.

When I pulled away, he was hurt, but I couldn't stand to be scrutinised by Draco right now and he was watching my every move. His grey eyes were filled with both jealousy and confusion, his feelings for me not allowing him to truly hate me yet.

Whatever was going through his mind, he fell into stride beside us. "I stand by what I said, Zabini. You let her do this to me so you could swoop in and pick up the fucking pieces. You wanted her for yourself."

"Well, I did a really shit job of it then, _Malfoy_ ," Blaise snarled in response. "You don't even know what you're fucking talking about."

Lucius halted abruptly and turned around. "You're all nearly thirty bloody years old! Stop this nonsense immediately! If Ms. Granger decided to start a relationship with Blaise, that's none of your concern, Draco! You're a married man."

"I still want to know how you fit into all of this, Father. I mean, I thought you'd done all you could to ruin my life when I was a teenager, but I was obviously wrong."

Lucius' mask faltered for just a moment before he continued down the never-ending hallway. "Draco, I did what I've always done. I kept our family together."

Draco lips twisted into a cruel sneer. "Funny how your decisions always seem to affect my life more than yours."

As we entered the sitting room, Draco snapped his fingers and summoned an elf. Sensing the tension in the room, it cowered, looking to Draco for orders. My stomach turned.

"Firewhisky," Draco barked. "I need a drink."

I wanted to protest, to tell him that was the worst possible thing to add to the mix, but his hard glare stopped me. Regardless of my opinion, I couldn't fault him for his anger right now. I took a seat on a small settee and Blaise lowered himself down next to me. Our arms were touching, the space just large enough to accommodate the two of us.

When Narcissa and Astoria walked into the room, the first thing I noticed was how pale Astoria looked. The smugness I'd seen on her face in Diagon Alley was gone; she knew everything was crashing down around her — around all of us. Every carefully constructed lie and pillar of their relationship was crumbling under the weight of Draco's anger.

"Where is my son?" he snapped, causing her to look up at him. Her eyes landed on the whisky glass in his hand.

Narcissa spoke when Astoria couldn't. "He's in the nursery with Flora. She's going to look after him while we talk."

I was glad that Scorpius wouldn't be subjected to the conversation — or screaming match — that was about to happen. He was the only innocent one in all of this.

Calming just a fraction, he nodded. "Fine. Now that we're all here, who wants to begin?"

I looked to Lucius and Astoria, but neither of them said a word. They were going to leave it to me to explain, and my anger rose. If I'd known that, I could've taken him to my house and spoken to him privately before dealing with everyone.

"Malfoy, sit down," Blaise said. "This is going to take more than a few minutes to explain."

Draco glared at him. "I still fail to understand why you're here."

"I'm here for Hermione," he answered, not hesitating at all.

"Of course you are," Draco mumbled, taking a gulp from his glass.

In that moment, I wanted to use Legilimency on him, to slide into his mind and see what he was thinking, what he was feeling. If I had any idea, I might know how to start this conversation. But he was so volatile right now, emanating anger from every single pore.

"Where do you want me to start?" I asked quietly.

His eyes landed on me, boring into mine. I wanted to look away, but I didn't. I let the connection that I'd suppressed for so long overtake me, letting him see my emotions clearly.

"The fucking beginning. I want to know how this all started!"

Swallowing hard, I nodded. I wasn't sure how much Astoria, Narcissa, and Lucius already knew, but they were about to find out everything.

"The night of your stag party—"

Before I could finish, he roared in frustration. "I thought you said my birthday!"

"Listen to me!" I yelled back. "Don't interrupt if you want to know!"

He looked away, and my gaze roamed the room. Astoria's lips had parted in shock, but Lucius' hadn't. I was starting to understand that someone had told Lucius about the first night at the Leaky — I just didn't know who.

"The night of your stag party," I began again, "we were all at the Leaky. I was there separately, and I got really drunk. I… Hannah gave me a room, and I tried to use my key on your door…"

My voice trailed off as his eyes refocused on me.

"And we had sex?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I mean, it's a bit more complicated than that, but that's the gist of what happened."

"And the morning after?"

"When I woke up, there was a note on the bed beside me," I answered. "You… I have it still, at home, if you wanted to see it."

Blaise cleared his throat. "I came to get you. We talked, and you decided it would be best if you went through with the wedding. You didn't want to leave Astoria standing at the altar alone."

This was news to me; I had thought Draco woke up beside me and panicked. His note had been lovely and apologetic, but I didn't get the impression that anyone else had intervened.

A sob tore through the uneasy silence. Astoria had broken already, and I hadn't even gotten to the worst parts for her. "And all this t-time, I thought it h-had started after we were m-married."

Draco turned towards his wife, his face a jumble of conflicted emotions. He was angry, concerned, confused… and probably a myriad of other things.

"Okay, so I married Astoria," he said. "What happened afterwards?"

"You"—I looked to his wife, her face still covered with her hands—"I don't think this is a good idea, discussing the ins and outs of everything with everyone in the room."

"Fine. We started things up again on my birthday," he snarled. "How the fuck did I end up Obliviated?"

I swallowed hard and then my lips parted to speak. However, Astoria's voice came through before I could.

"I g-got pregnant with Scorpius," she said, her voice trembling. Tears fell from her wide blue eyes. "And I t-told you. I thought you'd st-stop seeing her. You d-didn't."

His face fell, clearly hating himself for what had happened years ago. Now that he was a devoted father, he probably couldn't imagine being terrified and angry when he'd found out they were expecting.

"And since you didn't stop seeing Ms. Granger, Astoria came to me," Lucius added, the remorse he felt clear on his face. "I approached Ms. Granger—"

"You _threatened_ her," Blaise spat.

"And look how nicely it's worked out for you," Lucius retorted before turning his attention back to Draco. "I _persuaded_ Ms. Granger to erase the relationship from your memory so you could focus on being a good father to your son."

Lucius' words were too much for Draco. He snapped.

"And what the fuck would you know about that?!" he bellowed.

Looking down at his hands, Lucius replied, "I know that being there for your son is important. I've learned a lot about what _not_ to do."

Draco's face softened momentarily, but then his anger clicked back into place. "Fine. So you went to Granger"—he looked at me and I held his gaze—"and then what?"

"I'd had enough," I admitted. "I'd been the other woman for over a year. I couldn't keep doing it. I waited long enough for us to take the final trip we'd planned together, and then—"

"You took it all away without even talking to me," he interrupted. "Didn't you?"

There wasn't a point in lying to him. I stood and nodded in confirmation, taking a hesitant step forward. "It's not as simple as that, Draco."

He crossed the room quickly, standing in front of me and leaning down towards my face. "Oh, is that so? Are you going to try to tell me that you loved me?"

"I did," I bit out, his bullying, condescending tone pissing me off. "I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone."

Draco looked taken aback, so I reached out to touch his arm. He was standing so close to me, and I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I needed him to understand it hadn't been easy for me to do this.

Recoiling, he pulled back again. "No. You're a fucking liar."

"Why would I lie?" I asked.

"You fight for the people you love," he snarled, glaring at me. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have let me go."

Lucius cleared his throat. "She's not lying, Draco. She didn't want to do it. I… forced her hand."

His eyes darted between us and then over to Astoria. "And you? What did you have to do with all of this?"

Her lips quivered. "I spoke to your father about the affair when it didn't stop," she began. "I went along with the plan. I gave Hermione some of my memories and asked her to find the same ones in your head—"

"So you were in on it?"

"Why wouldn't I go along with it?" she asked, her voice cracking. "I just wanted my husband back. I was pregnant, Draco."

At her words, my stomach churned, remembering how I'd felt the day Draco told me.

"And you told me you weren't sleeping with her," I added. "You promised me—"

He swallowed more whisky.

"Fine, so I was a bastard," he barked. "What right does that give you to alter my fucking mind?"

"None," I replied. "Absolutely none."

My response surprised him and, quite frankly, it shocked me, too.

"Then why do it, Granger?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "Why not just tell me to fuck off?"

"Do you think I hadn't tried that multiple times before?" I spat. "That I _wanted_ to do something like that to the man I loved?" Taking a step back, I continued. "You make me weak. When it came to you, I couldn't say no—"

I felt an arm curl around my waist and smelled Blaise's cologne. While I'd pushed him away earlier, I welcomed the support now. I was a hair's breadth away from falling apart.

From being the one to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness.

Draco's eyes landed on Blaise's hand and travelled up to meet his gaze. "Enough, Malfoy. There were plenty of mistakes made by everyone involved—"

"Mistakes?" Draco shouted. "You took my life away. She took my memories, the woman that I have wanted to be with since I was a teenager. And now you are fucking her! You were supposed to be my best mate, but I guess Granger's cunt—"

"Draco!" Narcissa scolded, but he didn't stop speaking.

"—is good enough to make you forget all about that. Or did she Obliviate you, too?"

Blaise stepped in front of me, blocking me from Draco's view. "I said that's enough, Malfoy. Why don't you talk to your wife and your father before you put all the blame on Hermione?"

As always, he was protecting me, stepping in when I needed him. He wanted to save every broken piece of me.

Much to my surprise, Draco turned to Astoria. "How long did you know?"

She wiped at her eyes. "I'd known since September of 2004, so almost a year before I approached your father."

He looked to Lucius. "And when did you approach Granger?"

"August," I said quietly. "He sent you and Astoria to Paris for the maternity photos."

Lucius nodded in confirmation. "Draco, you need to understand—"

"I do not _need_ to understand, nor do I want to," he hissed. "Everyone who was important to me was in on this scheme!"

"Draco," Narcissa began, "I'm sure you can see that this is an extremely simplified version of events."

"And what part did you play, Mother?" he asked.

Lucius quickly intervened. "None. I didn't involve her in it at all. She didn't know until Ms. Granger had started the process."

He looked at his mother. "Why didn't you tell me after the fact?"

"I didn't know how to fix it," she admitted, her tone apologetic. "And then Scorpius was here, and I just — I didn't want to lose you."

I saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He was angry, but he wasn't going to lash out at Narcissa. I knew that Lucius and I would be bearing the brunt of his frustrations.

"Fine," he snapped. "So Granger Obliviated me. I want it undone."

Stepping out from behind Blaise, I said, "It's not that simple. I used a different type of Obliviation. Have you ever used a Pensieve?"

Draco shook his head.

"What I did — it was like removing memories to examine them in the Pensieve. You're going to have to watch them all. There's no way to just reverse it."

"The holes and gaps," he said, something becoming clear to him.

I stepped closer, looking up at him. "I have the memories but, as someone who has lived with them for the past two years, I—" The words caught in my throat, and I didn't know how to get them out. "They're not easy to live with."

"I want it all back," he stated firmly. "I want to know what happened between us."

My eyes filled again, and when I blinked, tears slipped through my lashes. He watched as they tracked down my face, and I could tell he was holding back, wanting to wipe them away. He was angry, but he still felt something for me.

My heart sped up at the thought, and I knew what I needed to do.

"I'll show you, but I think we need to talk to the healer first."

Draco slammed his tumbler down on an end table before looking back at me. "Why do we need a healer?"

"Because memory removal isn't simple," I said, trying to keep my voice calm even though I was anything but. "I don't know if we can do it quickly or if it needs to be over time or—"

He growled in frustration, cutting me off.

"Fine, Granger! I'll see a fucking healer, and then you can decide if or when I get my memories back. Because why should I have any say in the matter!"

Before I could reply, he had turned and was striding towards the door, not looking back.

"Draco!" I shouted, but he didn't acknowledge me.

And my heart broke into even smaller pieces than it had before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was completely overwhelmed by the response to chapter 33. Thank you all so much for your kind words. I know several of you realised the photos would come back into play. I had that scene written for over a year, so it feels good to finally have it out in the world!
> 
> As always, feel free to reach out to me! Even though I'm not answering comments, I am reading every single one and love you all!


	35. Draco, 18th-19th June 2007

Since the moment I'd laid eyes on the strip of photos in Granger's office, my heart had been racing and my mind had been trying to connect the dots, but the holes and gaps kept swallowing me whole. When she'd told me she'd removed the memories completely, leaving no traces, it all made sense. Shopping for the gifts, the scent of her perfume… They were vague recollections. And it explained why I couldn't really remember seeing her around the office, either.

When she said she'd show me what was missing — but only after talking to a healer — I stormed out, leaving all the conspirators behind. They shouted after me, but I heard my mother say, "We knew this would happen. Just let him go and try to process."

As if I could ever begin to process this situation.

I stepped through the Manor's front entryway and walked up the path to the gates, wrenching them open and Disapparating.

Landing in my bedroom, I swiftly moved into the closet, summoning a small suitcase and packing enough clothes for a few days blindly. I didn't want to be away from Scorpius, but I couldn't even fathom being under the same roof as Astoria. She'd had a hand in this, had been lying to me for almost two years. From what I could gather, instead of talking to me about the affair, she'd gone to my father.

My father.

The man who had ruined my teenage years had apparently decided that I should never live my own life, that I should only be what he wanted me to be. It made me sick. Over the years, I thought he had really changed. But, of course, it hadn't lasted.

My chest was heaving and I was breaking into a sweat, my body starting to panic just as much as my mind had.

Granger. I'd been in love with Granger. Although, I'd always known that.

The new information was that we'd had a relationship and she'd been in love with me as well. Minus the whole marriage part, I'd had exactly what I'd always wanted for over a year. Even if I didn't deserve it, I'd had it.

And then they took it all away.

My anger flared again. Granger had taken it all away — every single memory, every single thing I would've cherished. It was all gone, lost to me unless she deigned to give it all back.

Why would she, though?

I'd made her be the other woman for over a year, and now she had Blaise. Just from observing them, I could tell that he always put her first, that he made sure she was happy before worrying about himself.

Shaking my head, I finished packing and Disapparated again, landing in the middle of Diagon Alley. I looked up at The Leaky Cauldron and wondered if Hannah knew — if she remembered the night of my stag party.

Had she known that I spent the night with Granger then? Or any other nights?

Surely we wouldn't have been stupid enough to stay there…

Deciding it was my best option, I walked through the door, immediately glancing towards the bar. Hannah was serving customers and smiling, but she looked up at the sound of the little bell that rang whenever someone entered. When she saw my suitcase, her expression faltered and she held up a finger, signalling that she'd be with me in a moment.

I stood off to the side, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Discreetly, I shrank my suitcase down, realising that was the most conspicuous thing about my appearance. When she made her way over to me, she had a key in hand.

"I'm assuming you need a room?"

"For at least tonight, probably tomorrow night, as well," I replied. "Can I—Is there any way we could speak? Privately? I have some questions."

She nervously chewed at her lip. "I'm not sure I should be the one to answer them if they're what I think they are."

"You can choose not to," I said, the little bit of hope I'd been feeling dissipating. "But I really do need to talk to someone, and I'm not ready to—I can't talk to Granger yet."

Her eyes filled with sympathy, and my suspicions were confirmed — she knew _something_ , if not everything.

"I'll answer if I can, but there's a lot I don't know," she replied. "I only really had my own assumptions."

I nodded. "When are you off?"

"I can see if Neville is home." Handing me the key, she said, "It's for room ten. If he's able to finish up the night for me, I'll come and speak to you. If not, we can have breakfast in the morning."

Thanking her, I moved towards the stairs, keeping my head down. Though everyone in the pub likely knew who I was, I didn't want to draw more attention to myself than necessary. When I unlocked the room, I expected to feel some flicker of recognition, some flash of memory.

But then I remembered that it was gone. Completely gone. Just another gap inside my mind, a cavern for me to fall into.

There was a nightstand and a double bed, a small desk, an armchair, a fireplace, and a bathroom. It wasn't much, but it would do for a few days until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life.

Tonight, I would talk to Hannah and try to get some idea of what had happened over the past three years. I would see what she knew and see if I could remember anything at all.

* * *

Less than half an hour later, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, Hannah was standing there, a hot meal and a bottle of firewhisky on a tray. I was surprised she was going to feed me alcohol, but the situation likely called for it. Letting her pass, I tried to think of a way to start the conversation.

She set the tray she'd been carrying down on the desk and motioned for me to sit. She took the armchair, settling into it before looking over at me.

"I'm not talking til you eat something. And the whisky doesn't get opened til then, either."

I grimaced. The thought of food was absolutely repulsive right now. My stomach hadn't felt settled for hours, but I took a deep breath and walked towards the desk. I could suffer through a meal if I got answers afterwards.

When I removed the lid, I saw a heaping portion of curry on my plate, and it smelled divine. She smiled and said, "This isn't my first time feeding you when you're upset."

"Oh," I said stupidly. "Was I here a lot?"

Hannah shook her head and gestured to the food. "Eat and I'll talk."

Taking a bite, I looked at her pointedly.

With a sigh, she continued, "I suspected something was going on with you and Hermione from about Christmas of... 2004?"

"That lines up with what I found out today."

"Okay. You two would come through here separately, but always close to the same time. You specifically were a surprise to me because you would cross into the Muggle world," she explained. "You stopped in together for lunch a few times, but you always wanted to be seated out of sight. Hermione would say she didn't want to be bothered since you had limited time before you had to be back at work."

Sweet Salazar, we'd been carrying on basically out in the open. No wonder Astoria had found out.

I continued to eat, and she kept talking. "I assumed it started significantly before then, but I never knew for sure. And then, in the summer of 2005, Astoria got pregnant." Her hands subconsciously went to her bump, cradling the baby inside. "I think after Hermione found out about the pregnancy, she told you she didn't want to keep seeing you."

"I'm not certain," I replied, wiping my mouth with the napkin she'd provided. "I have no recollection of the relationship at all."

"I thought so. I've sensed you're different now." Looking straight at me, she said, "When Hermione tried to break things off — and again, this is just a suspicion, I don't know for sure — you started coming here after work. You were getting pissed pretty frequently, and you told me more than once that you were losing the love of your life."

My chest tightened, though her words weren't a surprise at all.

"And I would listen, but you never specified who the love of your life was. I never asked because I wasn't sure if you and Hermione were really together or if I was just seeing something that wasn't really there," Hannah stated. "But then, one night, you asked me to Floo someone to come and get you, and you asked for 'Granger' and said she needed to know what she was doing to you."

"That… Well, I suppose—"

She cut me off. "So I called her after everyone else had left the pub and she came to get you. She was devastated when she saw you, but I could tell she was having a hard time with the whole situation. She said all the right things — that she would make sure you got home to Astoria, that you must have called her because Astoria would likely be mad — but I knew she was trying to cover things up."

"Well, I'm sure I made it a bit obvious," I stated begrudgingly. "I've only been infatuated with her since I was a teenager."

Hannah laughed and nodded. "I know, but she didn't realise how much you were actually telling me. So, anyway, this continued to happen sporadically through September, and then I didn't see you again. I heard about your accident through the grapevine, and Hermione completely fell apart. I didn't really see her for almost an entire year. I only knew she was still alive because Blaise kept me updated whenever he'd pass through."

"Were they close before my"—I made air quotes—"accident? Or did it start after?"

"They were close before. I think she's been leaning on him for quite some time," Hannah replied, though she looked confused by the sarcasm I'd laced through the word 'accident'.

"Granger told me that we both stayed here the night of my stag party. Were you working that night?" I asked.

"I was."

"I guess that was when it all started. She was pissed and went to the wrong room and we had sex," I admitted, though I wasn't sure having sex with an inebriated witch said a whole lot about my character. "She didn't get into specifics, but I know we spent the night together and then Blaise came to get me the next morning."

Her eyes widened in shock. "I had no idea."

Snorting, I replied, "Neither did I, obviously."

"What do you mean?"

The anger burning in my chest made me want to tell her exactly what had happened, but I knew Granger could get into a lot of trouble for what she'd done. Even though I was furious with her, I couldn't bring myself to potentially hurt her that way or ruin her career.

"I just can't remember anything," I answered, though I suspected she knew I was being vague for a reason. "Can I start drinking now?"

Her eyes darted to my near-empty plate. "I suppose, though I do hope you don't make yourself sick."

"I just want to forget again," I said aloud.

And then Granger's words came back to me. _I have the memories but, as someone who has lived with them for the past two years… they're not easy to live with._

I felt my anger cool marginally. Hannah said Granger had fallen to pieces. Hell, Potter and Blaise had both told me she'd been a mess.

"Thank you," I said, wanting to be alone again. "I needed to hear from someone that wasn't — isn't — directly involved."

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she replied. "I can't imagine what you're feeling right now."

Swallowing hard, I looked away. "I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"How did you find out?" she asked tentatively.

"I found a photo and a note I'd written her."

Her voice shook. "I was hoping she told you—"

Letting out a humourless laugh, I started to open the firewhisky bottle. "Yeah, like Blaise would allow her to do that." As I poured the liquor into my glass, I continued, "And all she seems to care about right now is placating him, so I have to wait for answers."

My words were bitter and not entirely true — I'd been the one to storm out, and she hadn't said anything about Blaise — but the jealousy and anger were twisting inside of me, making me lash out.

"For what it's worth, I think she loved you, too," she said.

Instead of comforting me, her response made the pain just a little bit worse.

"She said as much," I replied, but I could hear how bitter I sounded. "Hannah, thank you, but I think… I don't want to say anything to upset you. I need to be alone."

Since I'd been so blunt, she rose and took the tray, leaving me with only the bottle and the glass. "Just send a Patronus if you need anything."

The Patronus. The otter.

"Wait," I said, just as she reached the door. "Maybe you know…"

She turned and looked at me.

" _Expecto Patronum_."

My emotions were tamping down my ability to focus on happy memories. Only a wisp of silver vapor came from the tip of my wand.

"What is it?" she asked.

"It's… an otter. Potter seemed perturbed by it and said it had changed."

I saw tears welling in her eyes. "Hermione's Patronus is an otter. Or at least it was back at Hogwarts."

And, just like that, it finally made sense.

* * *

The next morning, my head was fucking pounding.

When I opened my eyes, the sunlight sneaking in through a crack in the curtains nearly blinded me. My mouth was sticky and I was still in the clothes from the night before, alone in an unfamiliar bed.

For just a few seconds, I didn't remember what had happened the previous day. I didn't know that I'd had — and lost — the girl of my dreams.

I didn't know I'd been a shit husband, a lying cheater.

And then it all came back, and I groaned, rolling onto my side and turning away from the sun. I didn't want to get up and deal with the fallout from my discovery. I didn't want to talk to my family or to the fucking healer who had allowed all of this to happen.

But I did want to see my son. I was sure he'd been thrown for a loop when I wasn't at home last night, and that wasn't fair to him. Regardless of my anger towards Astoria, I had to keep his needs at the forefront of my mind.

With a curse, I sat up and covered my eyes with my palms.

"Fuck," I groaned, eventually looking over at the bottle on the desk. It was more than halfway gone, and my tolerance for alcohol wasn't all that high anymore.

Squinting at the clock, I saw it was after nine, and I knew I had to owl the Ministry to let the DMLE know I'd be taking the morning off, at the very least.

I dragged myself to the shower and stood under the spray, bracing my hands on the wall and tilting my head down as I simultaneously tried to remember and forget what had happened yesterday.

Mentally, I planned my day. I knew I had to go to the Manor first, though I wasn't looking forward to speaking with my father. And my mother — well, I was ambivalent there. She may not have initiated the plan, but she definitely didn't tell me anything after the fact.

Why did she always protect my father?

And my father… He loved my mother above anything in this world. If Granger and I were supposedly in love, why would he take that away from me? Especially knowing what it felt like to be in so deep?

As I washed, my mind raced, and I thought of the month and a half — and, fuck, how had it been so little time — since I'd returned to work, replaying every moment I'd had with Granger since the beginning.

I found myself getting more and more angry. All the signs had been there, screaming in my face, but she and Blaise had covered their tracks well.

From my first day back, Blaise had been possessive of her, wrapping his arm around her waist, holding her hand, popping in and out of her office whenever I tried to talk to her. He'd taken her to Italy, threatened me when I got too close to her, made sure to come into the office with her every single morning and make sure I saw them.

Make sure I knew they'd spent yet another night together.

He'd played the game so well, keeping me at a distance. But I'd still been drawn to her, like a moth to the flame, like a mere wizard entranced by a Veela.

And Veela may be an accurate description for Granger — beautiful, alluring, and fierce, but she turned ugly when crossed, when hurt by someone.

I'd definitely hurt her, and she'd gotten her revenge, ripping the memories I would've cherished from my mind and moving on with my best friend.

The more I let myself think, the angrier I became. Then I'd try to calm myself, talk myself down, and it would all start all over again.

Once I was dressed, I made my way downstairs, avoiding looking at Hannah. I immediately used the Floo and headed to the Manor, my rage fuelling me.

As soon as I stepped into the entrance hall, my mother rushed to me. "Where have you been, Draco?"

I glared at her. "Did you honestly think I would come here or go home to Astoria last night?"

"Yes! You have a child to think about! Or have you forgotten—"

"Actually, that's pretty much the one thing I haven't been made to forget, Mother."

She faltered at my words, realizing the faux pas she'd made.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Where is Father?" I asked, not acknowledging the apology at all.

There were tears forming in her eyes, but I didn't let them break me.

"He's in his study. He's… not well."

With a scoff, I started up the staircase. "I'm sure he's really broken up that his whole scheme is over."

"Draco—"

"Do _not_ defend him. Not if you want me to forgive you anytime soon." I turned and looked her squarely in the eyes. "There is no excuse for what he did, Mother. Child or not, having me Obliviated… It's unforgivable. Especially with everything else he's done throughout my life."

"He knows that," she murmured, and my shock must have shown. "He's been feeling guilty since Scorpius was born. It's been eating him alive."

I couldn't let her words stop me today. They were something to think on later. Much later. Possibly a few years from now.

He didn't deserve to be forgiven again, to get away with ruining my life a second time over.

Again, I turned and started marching up to his study. I didn't knock. I simply flung the door open, and he pointed his wand at the intruder.

When he realised it was me, he lowered it. "Draco. I wasn't expecting to see you—"

"And you won't. Not anytime soon, after this," I interrupted. "Avery was the healer in this mess, yes?"

He nodded.

"And do you have him tongue-tied or anything of that nature?"

He nodded again, completely speechless.

"I need you to come with me and undo it, then," I snarled.

"When?" my father asked.

I wanted to say _immediately_ , but I thought of Scorpius, and I knew I needed to go home first. Avery could wait another couple of hours.

"After lunch," I responded. "I'm going home to see Scorpius first."

"I'll meet you there at one."

When I turned to leave, he quickly said, "I know you hate me, Draco. I just—I hope that someday you understand—"

"How can you expect me to understand what you did?" I replied, not turning around. "Why would you think I could _ever_ understand?"

He didn't say anything in response, so I continued walking. I wasn't surprised to find my mother pacing outside the study door. Before she could try to stop me, I said, "I'm going to see Scorpius and then Father is meeting me at Avery's office to undo all the curses he put on him."

She nodded. "I'm sure he'll be happy to see you. Astoria, too. She was—"

I held up a hand. "I don't care what she was. She's just as guilty as Father and Granger."

Looking nervous, she said, "We owled her over the weekend, you know? Hermione. We wanted to talk to her about telling you everything."

"Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not. You can ask her yourself. Astoria, too. We wanted to try to fix things," my mother admitted, on the verge of tears. "It took me a long time to get them to agree, but they finally had, and Hermione never responded."

Rolling my eyes, I took another step forward. "I'm sure she was too busy riding Zabini to come to your little conspiratorial meeting."

She grabbed my arm. "That's a nasty thing to say."

"After what she did to me, she deserves far worse."

When I yanked my arm out of her grip, she tried a different tactic. "Fine, Draco. Hate everyone for now."

I really didn't understand why she thought I'd react differently. "Don't act like I'm being unreasonable! I was Obliviated against my will by the woman who — for all intents and purposes — I considered my soulmate at my father and wife's request. Did you read what I wrote to her in that book I was carrying yesterday?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then don't try to make me feel guilty," I hissed. "I found out less than twenty-four hours ago. Don't you think I need some fucking time? Or some more information?"

"I'm sorry," she apologised again. "I know it's only been a day, but it feels much longer."

 _Probably because you fucking knew the whole time_ , I thought to myself.

"He's upset. I'm sure he needs you," I said, jerking my head towards the door. "I need to get home."

"I'll see you soon, Draco."

Even though I had no plans to return to the Manor, her statement seemed true enough. I knew I couldn't shut her out indefinitely.

* * *

The first sound I heard when I entered my house was Astoria crying.

Scorpius was sitting at her feet, playing with a large assortment of toys, and he looked up at me and smiled. He stood and toddled over to me, extending his arms and saying, "Up!"

The shock I felt likely showed on my face because Astoria said, "It happened two days ago. I didn't get a chance to tell you."

Lifting him up, I kissed his cheeks. "You're brilliant," I praised. "I'm sure you'll be telling me stories in no time."

He laughed and the sound calmed me more than anything else had over the past twenty-four hours.

"Dada," he chirped. "Dada!"

"Scorp!" I responded. "I'm right here, buddy!"

When he cuddled against my chest, I settled further. Looking at Astoria, I said, "I'm here to spend some time with him. I'll be heading to the healer in a couple of hours."

"Do you—Can we talk?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I'm not ready. I need to know more."

"I can tell you more." There was desperation in Astoria's voice. "I can tell you everything that happened from the day we were married on."

"You can tell me your version of things, how you saw them. I'd rather see it through my own eyes."

"You're not going to be able to watch years of memories in a day, Draco," she said. "Let me explain."

Everyone wanted their turn to explain, but no one seemed to care how I felt or what I wanted right now. What I needed.

"Not yet," I answered, walking towards the stairs. "I'm not ready to discuss anything with anyone."

When she started crying again, a pang of guilt rolled through me, but I refused to feel sorry for her. Everyone involved deserved every little bit of pain they were feeling.

Salazar knew I was in agony.

As I sat on the floor and played with Scorpius, I started thinking about the timeline again. Astoria had told me she was pregnant on my birthday. After that, she'd gone to my father. Two months passed before my father approached Granger, but I was willing to bet he was doing his research, trying to figure out how to separate us. And then, from there, it had taken another two months for her to Obliviate me.

Why so much time?

Granger had mentioned a trip.

As I thought, another piece clicked into place. Astoria had insisted that I travelled all the time for work, but I hadn't gone anywhere in the past two months.

Did I take a lot of trips with Granger? Just leave my life — and my wife — behind?

Would I have continued to do that with Scorpius around?

Shaking my head, I tried to refocus on my son, making one of his toy dragons float through the air. He stood and reached for it, grabbing it out of the air and laughing.

_Would I have given up moments like these to spend time with Granger?_

He toddled around the nursery, grabbing new toys to play with every so often. Of course, he had far more possessions than any child should, but we all spoiled him. He handed me a soft toy — a kneazle — and I graciously accepted it, pretending to pat its head. Scorpius ran his hand along the faux fur, mimicking me.

"I bet you'd like to have a pet," I whispered. "I always wanted one, and all we ever had were owls and those bloody peacocks."

A sniffle broke through into the room and I saw Astoria watching us from the doorway. Her arms were wrapped around her middle and she looked like she might collapse.

"Do you need me to keep Scorpius today, Astoria?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I called Daphne. She's going to come in an hour or so."

"I can bring him to the healer with me. It's not the end of the world."

More tears rolled down her cheeks. "Why won't you let me explain?"

"I told you, I'm not ready to talk about it yet. Not with you, not with my parents, and not with Granger."

"But Draco—"

"Astoria, I understand that you're upset. Really, I do. But you need to think about how I feel right now. If we talk, it's not going to end well." The venom in my tone was clear; I wanted her to feel my anger. "Trust me when I say you want to give me time to cool off."

She nodded, looking away. "I don't want you to take Scorpius to the healer's office. Between Daphne and me, he'll be fine at home."

Though I didn't feel right leaving my son with a distraught woman, I knew Daphne was more than capable of caring for him. I swallowed hard, knowing that this was likely Scorpius' future — sharing time between me and Astoria — because I didn't think I could ever forgive her for what she'd allowed to happen.

I had to start adjusting to the new normal.

"When Daph gets here, I'll leave."

Realising she'd been dismissed, Astoria walked away, leaving me to focus on Scorpius once more. I resolved to give him my full attention and blocked out all thoughts of Granger, the affair, and the Obliviation.

He was what mattered; I had to hold it all together for my son.

* * *

I arrived at Healer Avery's office before my father. When the man saw me, he paled.

"Hello, Ignatius," I greeted. "My father will be arriving momentarily, but I wanted to speak to you alone first."

Nervous energy radiated off of him.

"How dare you stand by and let him — and her — dismantle my life. What kind of a healer just accepts that?" I braced my hands on his desk and leaned closer. "I should haul you into the Ministry right now. You were complicit in several crimes against me alone, and I'm sure you're involved in more. It's time you cleaned up your act."

Just as I finished speaking and stood straight again, my father entered the room.

"L-Lucius," Avery stuttered in greeting, his eyes darting between us.

My father looked from the healer to me. "Ignatius. I'm here to lift all the enchantments. Hold still."

Removing his wand from the walking stick he still carried in public, he started to wave it in a complex set of motions, all focused on Avery. I saw his lips moving but couldn't make out the words he was murmuring. When he stopped, he said, "Try to talk about the Obliviation, Ignatius."

Voice trembling, Avery began to speak. "In October of 2005, I watched as Hermione Granger removed memories from your mind using a combination of Legilimency and the technique used to retrieve memories to be viewed in a Pensieve. I'm not sure if she did anything else, but I was there to ensure your brain function was not affected by her actions."

My father nodded. "Good. It seems you can speak freely now."

I made eye contact with the healer. "Granger said I needed to talk to you about getting the memories back."

"I'm not the one who has them," he replied. "She does. She'd need to be the one. I'm not sure why she thinks you need me."

"She's probably worried about the mental ramifications of giving them back," Lucius stated. "Surely you're not that stupid, Ignatius."

"Maybe that's it. It probably wouldn't be wise to just give it all back…" His voice trailed off as he thought. "I think she would likely know a bit more about it than I do, though. She did all that research to try to sort her parents out."

"But she said she Obliviated me differently. How do you think this will work? If I watch the memories, will they just go back to wherever they were stored before?"

"As far as I know, yes. I would suggest starting slow. Maybe one memory per day and see how it goes," Avery said. "I'd feel better if Ms. Granger was there to monitor you, as well. She has more experience with memory modification than I do. If you get a headache or faint, she can call for me. It will be easier for her to monitor your function since you'll be conscious this time."

I felt like my insides were filling with a group of pixies, flapping their wings and making me nauseous. The thought of Granger roaming freely through my unconscious mind was horrifying. I had so many fantasies, so many feelings—

Since we'd been in a relationship, I suppose that didn't matter much; she knew it all already, had seen it all. I just felt like she hadn't since I couldn't fucking remember it. Much to my chagrin, I found myself getting frustrated that I'd had sex with Hermione Granger — likely a lot of sex — and I couldn't remember how she felt beneath me, how she looked when she was riding me, on her knees, her arse in the air…

These clearly weren't the most important things, but I'd wanked to thoughts of her so many times and, fuck, I wanted to know what the real thing was like.

How she tasted. What sounds she made when she came.

Clearing my head of the incredibly inappropriate thoughts, I refocused on Avery. "Right. So, as long as we take it slow, you think it's okay for everything to be restored?"

He nodded. "I don't see why not. Wizards used to store memories for later review. It's why Pensieves were invented in the first place."

My father nodded. "And we have one in the vault, Draco. I removed it from the Manor when we had so many… houseguests."

"I thought they were rare?" I asked, though it was more reflexive than anything else.

"They are. Incredibly so, but I think you know that's never mattered to the Malfoy or Black families," he replied. "I forget who acquired it, but it was centuries ago."

As always, he waved it off like owning a rare magical artifact was of no importance whatsoever. Ultimately, I supposed it wasn't when you'd been raised to believe that those from long magical lines were truly superior to Muggleborns.

My anger at my father was carefully tethered right now; I didn't want to show any sort of feud to Avery, but I was still fuming inside.

His thoughts of superiority were what had landed us in this mess in the first place. An arranged marriage to a pureblood witch was something I never truly wanted, but I'd accepted it out of familial obligation and the self-doubt that had been ingrained in me after the war. I didn't think I was good enough, that I deserved more, even after I became an Auror and started to restore my name.

That was also my father's fault — he'd chosen our allegiance in the war long before I was born, and I'd inherited my place as his heir.

I'd never had a choice.

Checking my watch, I saw it was nearing two. I mentally debated heading to the DMLE to confront Granger, but I wasn't even sure if she'd gone into the office today.

Would it be better to owl her? To see if Hannah could get her to come to the Leaky? To let her come to me first?

"Draco," my father began, pulling me from my thoughts. "Are you coming back to the Manor?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm going to try to find Granger, I think. I want to get this over with."

"Very well. I'll head to Gringotts to retrieve the Pensieve, then. Just come by when you're ready for it."

The formality of our interaction was not lost on Avery.

"Avery, you'd do well to remember what I said," I stated before turning and heading for the door. "If I hear of you deceiving another patient like this, I will arrest you and you will lose your license."

I didn't stay to hear his reaction, nor look back to see my father's.

Next, I needed to confront Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm overwhelmed by the love and support for the last chapter! I've been dropping GIFs on some comments as responses when I'm taking a break from furiously typing.
> 
> So many of you asked why Hermione didn't tell Draco about Lucius' threats. It's going to happen soon. I promise.


	36. Hermione, 18th-19th June 2007

After Draco turned to storm out of the Manor, I called out to him, my voice desperate. I knew he would be mad and demand answers, but it didn't make it any easier. I simply couldn't give the memories to him without speaking to a healer first. When he'd smelled my perfume in the lift, his face had gone blank, like he didn't know where he was, so I didn't know how he'd react when he saw more of our relationship. And, truth be told, I didn't want to just hand over the trunk. Even though I knew it would be hard, I wanted to be there when he learned about our affair. I needed a chance to explain.

Narcissa told us to let him go, to give him time to process.

Watching him walk out the doors without a second glance nearly killed me. But then Blaise was at my side, tugging me out of my downward spiral and back to reality.

"Hermione," he said quietly. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head. There was no point in lying; anyone would be able to see right through it.

He took my hand and guided me back to the settee.

"How did this happen?" Astoria sobbed. "Did you tell him?"

My head snapped up and I glared at her. "Did it really sound like I told him? Like that was a conversation I _wanted_ to have?"

She looked at Lucius and Narcissa accusingly. "Did you two tell him?"

"No. He came across a book"—he lifted _Anima_ off the table Draco had placed it on—"and some photos whilst snooping around her office."

"Photos?" Astoria asked. "What photos?"

Lucius cracked the spine and looked down at Draco's words. I didn't want the sentiments shared with everyone in the room, but there was nothing I could do to stop him if he chose to read it aloud.

But he didn't. His eyes widened marginally, and I saw something resembling guilt flash across his face. It didn't last long, but it was definitely there.

He held the photo strip up, and Astoria's eyes widened.

If I didn't know better, I would've said that Narcissa smirked. She knew she'd given the pictures to me, so I chalked her expression up to surprise.

"What were those doing in your office?" Astoria asked.

I swallowed hard. "I honestly forgot about them. I obviously have no use for that book at work. I've just… never moved it."

Before I could drift into the memory of the day I brought _Anima_ into my office, I shook my head and focused on Astoria.

"You should've removed everything when he came back to work," she hissed. "Look at the mess we're in now because you were careless! I bet you wanted him to find out—"

"Enough," Narcissa interjected, stopping Astoria's tirade before it spiraled out of control. "Hermione, I wish you would've returned my owl. Lucius and I wanted to speak with you about restoring Draco's memories."

Blaise stiffened beside me and I felt his grip on my hand tighten ever so slightly. Like he was afraid I'd slip away, that he'd lose me.

"What?" I breathed, the question barely audible. "You _wanted_ this to happen?"

"Not quite like this," Narcissa stated. "But we've been feeling guilty for so long now…"

Her voice was drowned out by the ringing in my ears, the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.

After all the stress and pressure and agony of the past two years, I wanted to scream. How could they even think about changing their minds? I'd been utterly broken after what I'd done to Draco, and they had wanted to just tell him and move on?

I couldn't even fathom it.

"How dare you," I said, my voice low and angry. "How dare the three of you make me do this to Draco so you can have your precious pureblood family and then decide it's not what you want anymore!" I stood, tugging Blaise up with me. "Do you know what you've done to me over the past two years?"

Narcissa's lips parted to speak but I stopped her.

I held up a finger. "No. Let me tell you. One, Lucius threatened to kill my family if I didn't Obliviate Draco." I held up a second, angling them towards Lucius. "Two, he then approaches me in public to 'see how I am' and pretends to care." I rolled my eyes. "Three, you sent me letters and photos of Draco and Scorpius and came to my fucking office with more."

Astoria gasped and looked at Narcissa.

"Did you think that was kind? That you were helping me get better?"

"Hermione—" Blaise interrupted, trying to get me to stop. But I couldn't. I'd wanted to say these things for too long.

"No. I'm not through yet. You acted like I was doing something wrong by moving on when you saw Blaise and I together last Christmas. You basically told me that Draco and Astoria had fucked on their anniversary and all was well with them." Looking to Astoria, I glared. "Which, by the way, nice touch staying in the hotel that he and I always used to. I'm sure the staff gave you some attitude." I turned back to Lucius and Narcissa. "And then, the icing on the cake, you let him come back to work!"

"Ms. Granger, none of this was supposed to be this way," Lucius said. "I didn't think Draco would want to go back to work. Why should he?"

I couldn't help the hysterical laugh that escaped me. "That just shows how little you truly know about your own son. He never wanted to just sit at home and live off the family Galleons or work with you."

However, Narcissa looked at me pleadingly, begging me to calm down.

It only made me angrier.

"I'm surprised you're not pregnant again, Astoria," I spat. "Isn't that how you take control of Draco again when he starts to lose interest in you?"

Deep down, I knew I was being cruel, but I didn't care. Honestly, I didn't even know if he'd started to change the way he interacted with Astoria.

"Of course not!" she shouted back.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, "Yeah, because it's _so_ hard to avoid getting pregnant with magic. Between potions and charms, there's no way it was an accident. You did what thousands of other women throughout the course of history have done."

The flush that rose to her cheeks told me I'd struck a nerve.

"Hermione, I think we should go," Blaise said, scanning everyone in the room and reading body language.

Narcissa's eyes were cast down. "Perhaps that would be for the best. Emotions are running very high right now."

"Fine," I snapped. "But I hope you all realise what this is going to do to him. I don't think you'll see him tonight."

"He'll come home to Scorpius," Astoria murmured, though I could tell she wasn't really sure if he would or not.

I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "Not if you're there."

* * *

When we stepped through the Floo at Grimmauld Place, Pansy took one look at my face and said, "I thought you'd be crying."

As much as I wanted to tell her to fuck off, the boys were in the room, so I settled for a glare.

Harry came into the room and grabbed my shoulders, examining my face. "Are you okay?"

Again, I laughed humourlessly. "Not even close."

His concern was palpable, and I could tell that he was trying to hold onto me, as well. Everyone was worried I'd spiral and slip away, fall further and further into myself.

He squeezed, his fingertips digging into my back and drawing my attention. "I've owled Kingsley. I'm coming back to work early—"

"Harry! You can't do that to Pansy! Lily is only two weeks old!" I replied. "Really, I'll be fine."

Pansy rose and looked at me over Harry's shoulder. "You're not fine, and you're going to struggle with this, Hermione."

"She will be fine," Blaise interjected. "I'll make sure she's fine."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "Zabini, you were being an arsehole to Malfoy before he knew about their past. Do you honestly think it's going to get easier now that he's found out?"

I watched the power struggle between Harry and Blaise silently. Their expressions were both hard, neither willing to admit defeat. Rather than wait for them to sort it out, I focused on Pansy. "Are you sure you'll be okay without Harry?"

"If you two had waited and listened, I'm sure Harry would've told you that he'll be going in for about five hours a day. I'll survive. I've done it twice before."

"I'm not going to let the three of you destroy my department," Harry quipped. "I'm sure there is likely to be a duel in Hermione's name before the end of this week."

Blaise's jaw tightened and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly, reminding him that I was here, that we were together.

"So I kind of lost my mind on the Malfoys," I admitted, changing the subject.

Eyes sparkling, Pansy said, "Please tell me all about it."

* * *

Blaise and I had gone home late, so when the alarm went off the following morning, he groaned and shut it off, pulling me back in to spoon.

"We need to get up and get ready," I stated, trying to free myself.

"Let's owl in sick," he replied, his words heavy with sleep. "I just want to stay in bed all day."

Squirming, I tried to wriggle free of his hold. "Blaise, we can't." I felt his morning wood against me, and I wanted nothing to do with sex at the moment. "Please, just let me up. I need to get in the shower."

"Tesoro, can't we please—"

"No," I cut him off. "I'm going into work. If you want to stay home, you're on your own. I let Draco affect my professional life when things ended between us. I'm not interested in going down that path again."

"But do you really think you're ready to see him today?"

_No. I'm not, but I know him well enough to know that he won't be there this morning._

"Blaise, I've been seeing him almost every single day for months," I replied, extricating myself from his hold. "The only difference now is that I won't be hiding anything from him."

The half-truth slipped out easily. Too easily. Of course everything would be different now — I just wasn't sure if it would be easier or harder.

Sighing, he said, "I don't know why you're lying to yourself again. Everything has changed now."

He saw right through it, and I wasn't surprised. But I also didn't want to immediately alter my routine or fall into bad habits. It would be too easy to lose myself in thoughts of Draco again.

_And everything is going to be different because I was careless. I just left something like that in plain sight. He'd been in my office so many times, working alongside me. It was a miracle he didn't notice it before. And the photos — how had I forgotten about the photos?_

"Fine. Things are going to be different," I stated, knowing he wasn't going to drop it. "But I need you to let me try to be okay. You'll be there if I need help and so will Harry."

He threw the covers back and got out of bed, moving towards me. He hugged me close and said, "Of course I'll be there. I'll always be there." His hands stroked up and down my back. "You just need to let me be there, Hermione. I don't want to lose you."

"I'll let you," I murmured quietly against his chest. "Just let me come to you. Don't treat me like I'm going to fall apart. Please."

After kissing the crown of my head, he said, "I'll try."

However, he couldn't disguise the lie in his voice. I knew he would be hovering, trying to make sure that everything ran smoothly for me, and I couldn't let him do that.

"And if Draco shows up, you need to let him talk to me. You can't always be there."

"Tesoro—"

"Blaise, I'm serious. I need to deal with him on my own. This is my mess." Looking up at him, I continued, "I carried on the affair. I chose to Obliviate him. I left the book and the photos in my office, even after he started hanging around again. This is all my fault. Not yours."

Frowning, he replied, "But we're together. We're supposed to be a team."

"I know, and we are in most things, but we can't be in this. It can't be us against Draco. He deserves an explanation, and you seem to piss him off more than anything."

I knew I was frustrating him, but he was holding it in. He wanted to be my knight-in-shining-armour, to be my protector, but I didn't want him to be. I needed to fix things on my own. I refused to be the same helpless girl I'd been before.

"I love you," he whispered.

Swallowing hard, I said it back. "I love you, too."

And I did — I knew I loved him.

I just still wasn't sure if I was _in_ love with him or not.

* * *

Just as I'd suspected, Draco didn't turn up at the DMLE that morning. The potioneer case was at yet another standstill, but Draco had given Mel instructions to return to Falmouth all week. Blaise was accompanying her, and that made me uneasy again.

I worked steadily into the afternoon, keeping myself busy with all the tasks that had built up over time. Trying not to think about the mess in my personal life, I had blocked out the noise around me with my earbuds. Movement in my doorway caught my eye, and I saw Harry standing there, his eyes full of concern.

"Hi," I greeted him, pausing the music and removing the headphones from my ears. "You're a bit late."

He laughed. "I was with Kingsley most of the morning. I see Malfoy never showed."

Shaking my head, I replied, "I didn't think he would."

"It's after two. Do you want to get lunch with me before I go home?"

I looked down at all the work on my desk, trying to decide if I wanted to force myself to eat or not. I knew I had to if I wanted to stick to the plan of avoiding old patterns.

"That would be great."

Arranging everything in my office so it was ready when I returned, I stood and slipped my heels back on. I shut and locked my door, remembering the mess leaving it open had caused yesterday. Harry walked beside me in silence as we made our way to the lift.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

I pressed the button to call the lift. "I'm not sure yet," I confessed. "I'm confused and upset and relieved all at the same time. It wasn't something I've seriously thought about dealing with, but now that it's happened, I'm just hoping for the best."

Harry nodded his head in acknowledgment. "I think I get it. I wouldn't want to be around someone I was keeping a secret like that from."

"It's been hard." I impatiently pushed the button again, though I knew it wouldn't do anything. "As angry as he was yesterday, I know it's going to get worse before it gets better. I'm just hoping he'll eventually let me explain."

"I'm sure he will," he said, trying to calm me. "You're like a magnet to him."

With a sigh, I said, "Yeah, but magnets either stick together or completely repel each other, depending on a lot of factors."

The lift dinged and I understood why it had taken so long to appear. It had apparently been picking up passengers, one of whom was standing tall and glaring at me.

"Granger," he snarled, and it sounded like it had when we were kids, no teasing tone underneath it. His eyes moved to Harry. "Potter."

"Malfoy," Harry said, stepping forwards into the lift and guiding me with him.

I felt like all the air was going to leave my lungs in a rush, so I held my breath.

"Are you going into the office?" Harry asked pointedly.

"I need to talk to Granger," Draco answered. "Privately."

Harry shrugged. "Well, you're going to have to wait. We're on our way to lunch."

The air was thick with everything that was going unsaid, and the other witches and wizards in the lift looked uncomfortable. Fuck, _I_ was feeling uncomfortable, and I knew what this pissing match was about.

"I guess I'll join you, then."

My heart rate sped up, furiously beating a bruise onto the back of my sternum. I wanted to flee, to get away from him. He'd clearly come here on a mission, and he wasn't going to leave until he'd accomplished it.

A set of fingers laced through mine and, for a split second, I thought they were Draco's, even though I didn't feel the telltale tingle of his magic on my skin. When I looked down, though, I saw Harry was holding my hand, squeezing it tightly. Glancing back up, I met his eyes.

He was looking at me, plainly saying _tell him to fuck off._

But I couldn't speak. My throat was tight and I was still mostly holding my breath.

When we exited the lift, I almost gasped for air, and both men looked at me with concern. I pulled away from Harry and started walking towards the cafeteria, my heels clicking loudly. Trying to focus on anything but Draco was pointless.

Now that he was here, he was all that mattered. He wanted to talk to me. Even if it made me uncomfortable, I knew I had to answer whatever questions he had. I owed him that much.

* * *

As soon as we were seated at a table, food in front of us, I felt panicked. No one was speaking and the silence stretched on and on. I couldn't bring myself to start eating, so I just pushed my salad around with my fork, avoiding eye contact with both Draco and Harry.

Someone cleared their throat uncomfortably and I saw Harry's water glass leave the top of the table for a moment.

"So, Potter, you knew about this little plan?" Draco asked, finally breaking the stalemate we were all engaged in.

I glanced up at Harry.

"Not really, no," he answered, and I was thankful for that. "I didn't know what was going on back then. Hermione gave me most of the details after the fact."

It was a half-truth — Harry did know I was going to Obliviate Draco, but he didn't know how exactly. I wanted him to be able to deny that he knew what I was doing if things went wrong.

"Granger, are you planning on looking at me anytime soon?"

Taking a deep breath, I tipped my head back, meeting his silver eyes directly. Even though I'd spent time with him since he'd returned to work, this eye contact felt so much different now that he knew what we had been. The intensity, the anger, the confusion — they were all visible.

My lips parted to speak, but I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't know if he wanted me to apologize or grovel or offer an explanation. In the end, I said nothing, waiting for him to tell me exactly what he was looking for.

"You said you still have all my memories?"

My heart sped up. "I do. I have them all. They're stored safely at my house."

"Potter, can you eat your lunch or fuck off? I'm not going to _Avada_ her in the middle of the Ministry," Draco said, looking at Harry. "I just want to talk to her, and we're both uncomfortable with you babysitting."

Miraculously, he could still read me like no one else.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, likely looking for permission to leave.

"I'll be okay," I replied quietly. "Go home. I'll come by later if you want me to."

He looked to Draco. "Please—"

"For Salazar's sake, I won't fucking do anything to her. I want to have a conversation," Draco snapped. "Go home and see your wife and kids."

Harry closed his lunch container and stood, squeezing my shoulder as he departed.

" _Muffliato,_ " I murmured before looking up again. "You can ask me whatever you'd like, Draco."

"Why?"

The question was so simple, but the answer was complicated. There were layers and layers of reasons, but the biggest one passed through my lips.

"Scorpius. I didn't want you splitting your time between home and me. I didn't want to take time from him." I looked down at my lunch again. "And I knew that things between us weren't going anywhere, Draco. We'd been sneaking around for over a year."

When he stayed silent, I continued.

"Honestly, I knew it wasn't fair to you, but I didn't care at that point. It's hard to explain."

"Can you show me?" Draco asked.

"Show you?"

"I went to see Avery this morning." His fingers tapped on the table. "He said he thinks it's fine for me to watch the memories, as long as I take it slow at first and have someone there to monitor me. He mentioned you specifically."

Glancing up, I saw he was nervously bouncing his leg under the table, the movement jostling the rest of his body. It was so unlike him, and his nerves helped to calm mine. We were both unsure of what to make of this situation.

Taking a deep breath, I responded, "Of course I can, but I'm not sure it's a good idea, Draco. A lot of the memories are… Well, we spent a lot of time in bed."

My cheeks were heating, which was ridiculous since I'd fucked him in every single way imaginable. But he flushed a bit too.

"Well, that doesn't matter," he said, looking away. "I want them back. And if that means we watch some…"

"Pensieve porn?"

He snickered. "Yes, I suppose that would be the correct term."

His smile and laugh made me feel like maybe it was possible to come out of this unscathed, like maybe he didn't hate me.

"I'll show you some of my memories," I began, though it was clear I was hesitant. "I think you need to see things from my perspective to understand why I did it."

"I'll never understand why you did it," he stated, a hard edge to his voice. "If we were—If you loved me the way I think I loved you, I might not be able to see your side of things."

Shrugging, I looked him in the eyes. "You might not be able to. Just like I really couldn't see yours at the time. Or even now, really."

He looked confused.

"Listen, Draco," I sighed. "We hurt each other. A lot. We were both jealous and possessive and horrible. We were in love, but it wasn't the sweet kind. It was the passionate kind, and we both have tempers and want what we want. When we didn't get our way, it got… ugly."

"We argued a lot?"

"Whenever I saw photographs of you and Astoria, whenever I went out with another man, whenever I tried to end things…"

The admission was completely raw and honest.

"I still want to know," he replied. "They're my memories, and I want them back."

"I'm more than willing to give them to you. I'm just warning you that it wasn't all sunshine and fucking rainbows. If it had been, I wouldn't have done what I did."

Quietly, he asked, "What did my father threaten you with?"

His question made me freeze. With everything that had been said yesterday, I hadn't even realised that Lucius' threats hadn't been disclosed.

"It wasn't me specifically." Feeling tears gathering in my eyes, I wiped at them. "It was my parents. He found them, and he said…"

Growling in frustration, Draco said, "I can guess. Using the family against someone was a common Death Eater practise." He met my eyes. "I'm sorry he did that, Granger, but it doesn't make what you did okay. I'm still fucking pissed at you."

"I wouldn't expect any different," I told him. "What I did to you—it was wrong on so many levels."

Running a hand through his fringe, he leaned back in his chair. "Talking to you calmly is exhausting. I want to scream and fight."

My stomach flipped. Our arguments — especially the louder ones — had always ended with us in bed. Or on my desk. Or any flat surface.

And my body remembered it well.

I felt my pulse quickening, my blood rushing through my veins.

"Well, I don't think we want to cause that kind of scene, so why don't we agree to meet somewhere tomorrow night?"

_Even though we'll be alone… Wherever we are._

"Where?" he asked. "I'm going to assume you won't want to use the Manor or my house."

I shook my head. "We can use mine. It's—We spent a lot of time there. Before."

"What time?"

"When we're done with work—"

"I don't think I can do that, Granger," he replied.

"Do what?"

He huffed, running a hand through his hair. "Come to work every day. See you and Blaise and…" His words trailed off, the implications clear.

"I'm likely going to the Department of Mysteries anyway," I stated, not wanting him to give up his job when he'd just returned to work. "No sense in you leaving, as well."

Considering my words, he shrugged. "I need a few days at the very least. Can you just give me your Floo address? I'll meet you around six."

"Sure. It's—Well, I never closed it off to you, so it's open."

"I'm staying at the Leaky," he admitted. "I'm not ready to talk to Astoria yet."

"But you're here talking to me?" I blurted.

His eyes narrowed. "Trust me, Granger, I wouldn't be if I didn't need someone to watch over me while I view the memories."

The conversation had been so civil, so normal that I'd nearly believed we were still friends. That he'd forgiven me. But then again, we were in the middle of the Ministry. He really couldn't yell or scream at me, like he'd plainly said he wanted to.

"Tomorrow, then?"

Draco nodded his assent. "Tomorrow. I'll Floo to yours at six." He rose, looking down at me. "And Granger?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare bring Zabini," he snapped before walking away.

Tomorrow. My house. Alone with Draco. Watching the memory of the first night we'd slept together.

I could only imagine the argument that I'd be having with Blaise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO excited for next week.
> 
> Are you ready to meet past Hermione and Draco? Because I've been waiting to introduce them since the beginning of this story! But I'm also nervous because I've done this a bit differently than most... I think. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kind words and comments and kudos. Rest assured, I am reading every single one.


	37. Hermione - 20th June 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday somewhere, right?

As I waited for Draco to arrive, I paced around the main level of my house, nervously playing with my hair and trying to imagine how this interaction was going to be. He’d owled me that morning to let me know Lucius had retrieved the Malfoy family Pensieve from Gringotts the day before.

And, of course, the sight of Draco’s owl at our bedroom window had put Blaise into a sour mood before we’d even left for work. 

“It’s not as if he doesn’t know where you’ll be in less than an hour,” he’d snarled, likely still angry that I was even entertaining the idea of watching all these memories with Draco.

Even though I’d explained why I’d agreed to it, he wasn’t happy, and I couldn’t really blame him. I’d be in close proximity with Draco, watching a good amount of sexually charged memories, and I’d told him he wasn’t welcome to come along.

Ultimately, I thought going through this whole process — seeing everything again — would help me get the closure I’d denied myself nearly two years ago. And, whether or not it made me uncomfortable, Draco deserved to know what had happened. I’d stolen a chunk of his life and I had to give it all back to him. We had to work through this together so we could both move on with our lives.

Blaise had dropped the subject far more quickly than I’d ever expected him to, but I knew he was just suppressing his anger, likely afraid to push me away.

When the fireplace roared to life with green flames, I took a deep breath and waited. A few seconds later, Draco stepped out, giving me déjà vu and spawning a surge of memories in my mind. However, I pushed those down. Tonight, we were going to start at the beginning, and that meant we’d be seeing The Leaky Cauldron, not my house.

He was holding the Pensieve and I gestured towards my dining table. 

“You can set it down there,” I said, stating the obvious. 

After he had, he looked around, his eyes falling on the glass otter that still sat on my mantle. The somewhat blank look he’d worn after he’d smelled my perfume settled over his features again.

He remembered buying the otter, too. Gods, how many other little trinkets and experiences did I miss? Why didn’t I search for memories of shopping for things for me, as well?

“Where’s the dragon?” he asked when he regained his equilibrium, drawing my focus back to him.

Swallowing hard, I said, “He’s in the trunk. The one with all your memories.”

“Makes sense, I guess,” he replied sharply. “Just packed me away, put me out of sight so you didn’t have to deal—”

“I did have to deal. I had to deal so fucking much that I ended up institutionalised and then in therapy for eight months after that!” I snapped back. “Don’t pretend like you know what my life’s been like, and don’t you dare judge me without knowing everything that happened.”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t _Obliviated me,_ I’d remember it all.”

I placed my hands on my hips. “Thank you for stating the obvious, but maybe I wouldn’t have Obliviated you if you didn’t impregnate your wife.”

Draco huffed, probably realising that we could shift the blame back and forth all night long if we really wanted to. Rather than continue the argument that he’d just started, he redirected, “So are we starting this little trip down memory lane at the end or at the beginning?”

I’d never imagined starting anywhere but the beginning, but I supposed it wasn’t really up to me. As much as I wanted to tell Draco the story of our relationship in chronological order, I knew I had to leave it up to him. I didn’t think we’d be having these conversations at all initially, so I was thankful he was giving me the chance, even if he was pissed at me. Ultimately, he could’ve chosen anyone to watch over him while he sorted through the memories.

“What would you prefer?” 

He thought for a moment. “The beginning, I think. I might not want to go back if I get angry at the end.”

While I knew there was a good chance he’d be upset after seeing the chemistry between us that first night, I simply nodded and held my wand to my temple, closing my eyes and bringing myself back three years. I twisted and pulled, plucking it from the depths of my mind.

Draco looked at the shimmering strands like they held all the answers in the world. In reality, they would only give him more questions.

I placed the memory in the Pensieve and looked up at Draco. “Do you want to talk about anything before we dive in?”

Shaking his head, he said, “I don’t really know what to say to you, Granger.”

“Okay,” I breathed, tucking my wand back into my hair, spearing it through my messy knot. “Let’s do this, then. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to say after.”

He appeared as nervous as I felt when he reached out and touched the surface of my memory. As soon as he was gone, I did the same.

* * *

**Memory #1, Part 1 - 2nd April 2004**

I fell into the Pensieve, landing in The Leaky Cauldron in the middle of memory Draco’s stag party. Draco carefully avoided my eyes and simply scanned the room around us, finding his memory self seated at a table with a few other wizards — Harry, Blaise, Theo, and Anthony were the ones I knew by name. 

“I look bloody miserable. This is my stag party? Shouldn’t I be drunk and happy?” he asked.

I nodded, gesturing for him to settle in and wait. Slowly, I moved to the seat on the left side of memory Hermione, waiting for the inevitable. He stayed standing, observing everything around him. After a few minutes, memory Draco stood and made his way over to the bar, stepping up to her right.

_“Granger,” he drawled in greeting. “What are you doing drinking alone?”_

Unable to control myself, I watched Draco’s reaction to the whole scene. He was observing their interaction closely, not bothering to look at me. I couldn’t blame him; he was here to see how things between us had started.

He already knew how they ended.

_“Well, Malfoy, I was hoping some mysterious, handsome wizard would come in here and sweep me off my feet tonight, but I doubt that will happen with you lot around,” memory Hermione retorted._

It was a bit eerie, watching our past selves converse. For Draco, this was all new, like he was watching a movie for the first time. However, for me, it was something I had seen a million times over, constantly replayed in my head.

When memory Draco spoke again, I mouthed his words along with him.

_“I’m sure any one of the blokes at that table, except for maybe Potter, would consider themselves lucky to sweep you off your feet.”_

Memory Hermione laughed, not believing him for a single second. Again, I knew the words that she would speak by heart.

_“If that were the case, I’m sure one of you would’ve done it by now and I wouldn’t be sitting here alone, waiting for a mysterious man to chat me up.”_

Of course, after snapping back, she took another long sip of her martini. I remembered those nights, the drunken ones I’d had before Draco. In a way, I’d traded one vice for another — alcohol for Draco, Draco for Blaise… 

Even though I hadn’t seen it back then, there was a clear look of indecision on memory Draco’s face, like he wanted to say something else.

Present Draco, the one who wouldn’t meet my eyes, said, “I can see it. I wanted to tell you I’d always dreamed about courting you.”

I just nodded, unable to face him. “I know. You told me about it after… Well, you’ll see, eventually.”

Memory Draco ordered another round of drinks for his table before turning back to face his counterpart.

_“You know, Granger, you’re tough to read. It’s possible that if you opened up, one of those blokes might be the miraculous one for you.”_

_“Like I’m going to take advice from the guy who’s getting married tomorrow to a woman his parents chose for him. Why don’t you go and enjoy your stag party, Malfoy?”_ _she_ _commented bitterly, effectively ending the conversation._

The wounded look on memory Draco’s face made me wonder how this night had ever ended the way it had. I’d been such a bitch in that moment, and I felt I needed to explain my actions.

“She’s jealous,” I admitted. “She’s lonely. Harry and Pansy are married, and James will be born soon, so she’s been alone a lot. Ron and Luna are expecting their first daughter, and Ginny is off with the Harpies since it’s Quidditch season.”

“And Blaise?” Malfoy asked. “Aren’t you two best friends?”

“We weren’t yet. Blaise and I didn’t get close until after our affair started,” I said quietly.

I heard Malfoy mutter something, but I didn’t push him for the details. As far as I was concerned, anything he said while we were in memory land was completely irrelevant.

Memory Draco walked back over to the table with the other men after that, but present Draco didn’t follow him. He was carefully observing memory Hermione, looking from her to me every so often.

“You’ve lost weight,” he observed. “She looks healthy, even if she’s in a snit and lonely.”

I sighed and said, “Draco, there are two kinds of lonely. This one, the one she is… She doesn’t know what it’s like to be one half of a whole. She thinks it’s the worst possible thing that her two best friends got married and left her behind. You and I, we became a whole. We were so entwined, and once you were gone, I was a half, and I didn’t know how to survive day to day without you.”

His grey eyes narrowed into a glare, and I felt my heart crack again. “Well, you _chose_ to just—”

“I know it was my choice,” I interrupted, not willing to let him go on a tear about how everything that had happened was my fault. He knew _nothing_ about what had happened between us at this point in time. “That didn’t make things any easier for me after the fact. I hope that you’ll understand a little bit better after you see more of our relationship.”

He turned away, focusing his attention on his former self. I looked in the same direction and saw Blaise, his arm slung around a pretty blonde girl while she whispered in his ear. 

And I was stunned speechless. Her hair was different, and she looked a bit older now, but I was fairly certain it was Sara.

Draco spoke, pulling me away from my thoughts of Blaise. “Can we speed this along a bit, Granger? Is there something else I need to see at this depressing stag party?” 

“Just a second,” I replied, moving across the room to take a better look.

I heard Draco scoff. “Are you getting jealous of some bint your boyfriend shagged three years ago?”

Bitterly, I realised that Sara had actually been more than a friend to Blaise before, and he hadn’t even bothered to mention it.

One thing was for certain, though. Blaise’s arm might have been around Sara, and she might have been looking up at him like he hung the moon, but his eyes were on me, watching my every move. It was odd since we weren’t even friends at this point in time.

Deciding to re-examine it when I was on my own, I made my way back over to Draco. He looked annoyed with me, and I was sure he didn’t like that my attention had been focused on Blaise instead of him. “Let’s go to the part where I stagger upstairs,” I offered. “I don’t think we interact again.”

He nodded, and I sped up the memory replaying around us. 

When the scene resumed, memory Hermione was very drunk, and memory Draco had already moved up to his room. She looked to Hannah, and the Leaky’s landlady just laughed.

_“I’ll give you a room, Hermione. It’s clear that you won’t be able to Apparate tonight.”_

_“Hannah-Banana,” she slurred, “you are seeeeeeriously the best friend a girl could everrrrr have.”_

Draco looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

“I’d had a little bit too much to drink,” I told him, though it was more than obvious.

“I can see that.” His posture was stiff, and his eyes were narrowed. “Did I really fuck you when you were nearly incoherent?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “It’s not going to happen the way you think it is.”

His eyes never strayed from memory Hermione.

We watched as Hannah handed her a key, telling her it was for room twelve. Before sending the drunken mess on her way, Hannah confiscated her wand. It was almost painful for me to watch my younger self try to navigate the stairs in three-inch heels while trashed. 

Eventually, she reached the landing with the guest rooms and marched down the hall, only stumbling sideways once. When she got to the room she thought was hers, she jammed her key in the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. She kicked the door.

“Very classy, Granger,” Draco taunted, and I couldn’t look at him. I was embarrassed by my younger self’s behaviour.

A moment later, memory Draco opened the door, dressed casually in a white v-neck undershirt and joggers. She was momentarily speechless and then broke out into giggles since she’d never seen him dressed in anything less than a Hogwarts uniform or a full suit.

He glared at her.

_“What are you doing here, Granger?” he snarled. “Did Blaise send you as some kind of pre-wedding gift?”_

_“Why are you in my room, Malfoy?”_

Memory Draco’s eyes were cold as they raked over her styled curls, makeup, short skirt and tall heels, and I knew her skin was erupting in gooseflesh. I looked over at present Draco, and he was looking her over just the same. 

_“I’m not,” he responded. “You’ve just kicked_ my _door. Don’t you remember that your key didn’t fit the lock?”_

Face flushed from both the alcohol and her embarrassment, she took a step back from the open door.

_“I’ll go talk to Hannah and straighten this out,” she said, somehow managing to sound more sober than she had just a few seconds ago. “Sorry to have disturbed you, Draco.”_

Memory Draco grabbed her wrist, keeping her close. I remembered the way it had felt, like electricity had jolted through me, and I heard my memory self suck in a sharp breath.

_“What room are you in, Granger? I can tell you’re pretty pissed just by looking at you and you’re slurring every third word.”_

She didn’t respond. She just stood there and stared at him, confused by the electricity and the goosebumps and her sudden attraction to him. He’d been in her orbit for the past six years, and she’d never really felt anything like this.

_“Earth to Granger,” memory Draco said, trying to get her attention. “Talk to me. I’ll help you get to your room safely.”_

_“Malfoy, can I ask you a question?”_

_“I suppose,” he responded._

_“If I were your girlfriend, and I snogged another girl in front of you, would you break up with me?”_

Somehow, I’d forgotten about this little interlude. I looked over to present Draco and his lips were parted in surprise. His response would probably shock him even more.

_“No, Granger, I wouldn’t break up with you. I’d probably want to fuck you even more afterwards and, if you wanted, I’d tell you the other girl could join us.”_

I felt my face turning a completely unattractive shade of pink, and when I glanced at Draco, his mouth was now hanging fully open. As this particular conversation played out, I held my breath.

Memory Hermione looked stunned, but then she started laughing. 

_“That wasn’t really an option for Ron since I snogged his sister, but he and Harry were both horrified.”_

_“So that’s what broke up the golden couples? A snog between the females?”_

_She nodded and said, “A drunken, heated snog.”_

_“You’re a surprise, Granger. I didn’t think you’d be all that adventurous in that aspect of your life.”_

_Under her breath, she muttered, “Pureblood prudes, the lot of you.”_

Memory Draco’s arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her body against his. 

_“I’m no prude, Granger,” he purred in her ear, making her tremble. “If I had been Potter in that situation, I would’ve been hard immediately. My hot, Quidditch player girlfriend snogging the daylights out of my best friend in her sexy little Muggle outfits with hair that’s made for grabbing and pulling.”_

I remembered the way I could feel him hardening inside of his thin joggers, my knickers growing wetter by the second, his hot breath against my ear. Memory Hermione let out an aroused whimper.

_“And then I would’ve told Weasley to get lost, friendship be damned, because I wanted his girlfriend to sit on my face while I fucked his sister. Of course, I would have let you and Ginny face each other so you could keep fooling around while I pleasured you both,” he whispered._

Memory Hermione was nearly a puddle on the floor, craning her neck up and placing a kiss on his jaw.

_“Or we could just forget about the Ginny part…”_

“Can we stop for a second?” Draco said, interrupting the memory. 

I looked over at him, waiting to see what he wanted.

“Was that all true?”

“ _That’s_ what you’re concerned about?” I asked. “If I really snogged Ginny?”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Yes. That whole story was true. It’s why Ron and I split up.”

Draco smirked at me, and it made my heart skip a beat. Rather than continuing the inane conversation, I resumed the memory.

_“Granger, you’re obliterated. You wouldn’t want to fuck me sober, so I’m not going to take you to bed like this.”_

“I’m clearly pissed, too,” Draco said aloud. “I never would’ve spoken to you that way if I wasn’t. I had no filter.”

Memory Draco stepped back into his room, leaving the door wide open. When memory Hermione started to follow him, she finally got a good look at the tiny number on the door and realised it was a ten, not a twelve. 

_“I’m sorry for bothering you, Malfoy,” she blurted, ready to retreat to her own room since he’d rejected her._

But then memory Draco grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn back, his hand sliding down to rest on her elbow. In the other, he was holding a potion — a Sober-Up. 

_“Drink this. If you still… want to after, I’ll tear your fucking knickers right off.”_

She looked at the vial for a moment, equal parts terrified and intrigued. When he started to lower it and turn away, she reached for it, uncorking it and swallowing it down. 

I remembered that I didn’t feel all that much different after drinking it. I still wanted him, could still feel the electricity coursing through my veins, especially since his hand was still touching my bare skin.

Memory Hermione slammed the door shut and his lips were on hers in an instant, his hands tangling in her hair. I could still remember exactly how he tasted, how this kiss somehow made me want him in ways I’d never wanted another man.

“Fuck,” present Draco said, closely watching the scene playing out in front of him. “I should’ve known it would be like this.” 

As I turned to look at him, I realised his eyes were glued to his memory self’s hands. They travelled down memory Hermione’s back and landed firmly on her arse, squeezing and lifting her. Her thighs wrapped around his waist and he pressed her back into the wall, his hard dick rubbing against her centre as they moved. 

One by one, memory Draco’s hands vanished under her skirt and I knew his palms were filled with her bare arsecheeks. She started moaning and panting against his lips, the friction against her swollen clit driving her mad.

_“Oh, Granger, you’re so wet for me. I can feel it already, even through these pyjamas,” memory Draco taunted, hiking her thighs higher around his waist, making her moan again._

My breath started to hitch when his lips landed on memory Hermione’s neck in the spot that drove her wild, and I hoped present Draco didn’t notice. Honestly, I hadn’t thought these memories would have an effect on me, but they somehow felt different inside the Pensieve than in my mind.

_“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked._

In reply, memory Hermione rocked her hips against his, trying to demonstrate that she was fine with it. But he stilled.

_“Answer me,” he demanded. “Do you want to fuck me?”_

_“Yes, Draco. I want you to fuck me.”_

“Fucking hell,” present Draco said, breaking the tense silence that had formed between us. “We both knew I was getting married in the morning.”

Even though I knew I was flushed, I turned to face him. “We did. But the connection between us—”

“I can’t remember what it felt like,” he interrupted. 

“Can’t you see it, though?” I asked, moving closer to our memory selves. 

I heard Draco’s footsteps approaching, following mine. The sleeve of his shirt brushed my arm as he stepped up beside me, nearly making me jump.

Swallowing hard, I watched as memory Draco’s hand slid along memory Hermione’s thigh, eventually reaching her knickers and stroking along the lace edging, pulling a sound of longing from her throat.

“They’re — well, we, I suppose — we weren’t thinking of anything,” I began, my voice quiet. “We were just focused on each other, on what was happening in the moment.”

“Obviously,” he replied, not looking away from what was happening in front of him.

“Did you — The first time we touched in my office, did you feel anything?” I asked nervously. 

With his eyes still locked on memory Hermione and Draco, he nodded, answering me nonverbally.

“This — if it felt the same for you — was like that. But multiplied by a hundred because we were drunk and our guards were down,” I explained, not expecting him to react.

But I saw colour rising into his neck, his face.

_“Granger, can I touch you?”_

_“Please,” memory Hermione responded, her voice breathy._

Memory Draco’s fingers slipped under her knickers and worked their way inside of her. We could see his hand moving, could tell he was fucking her with them.

_“So fucking wet and tight, even with your legs wide open for me,” memory Draco groaned before his lips moved back to hers._

He started rocking his hips forward, grinding against memory Hermione as his hand sped up, making her moan and murmur utter nonsense. Her fingers laced into the hair at the back of his head, holding him to her.

Turning my head, I looked at present Draco. He was biting down on his lip and his eyes were focused on what was going on in the memory. I resisted the urge to look down, to see if he was as affected by this as I was.

_“Please,” memory Hermione cried out, breaking their kiss. “Please, Malfoy. More.”_

_“Listening to you beg is so fucking hot,” he grunted, his arm’s motions changing as he shifted his fingers around inside of her._

Memory Hermione jolted up, pleasure rocketing along her spine, and an involuntary moan escaped her lips.

_“Is that what you were begging for,_ Hermione _?” memory Draco taunted, her name emphasised._

Writhing and whimpering with pleasure, memory Hermione stared directly into memory Draco’s eyes, her focus never leaving him. Her hips began to shift, moving with him. 

And, just as her eyes fluttered shut and she was on the brink of coming, he withdrew his fingers.

_“What the f—”_

Halting her voice with a kiss, memory Draco pressed her into the wall more firmly, his hands hiking up her skirt. He murmured a spell that tore through the sides of her knickers. As he pulled his pyjama bottoms down, he broke the kiss.

_“I want you to come when I’m inside of you,” memory Draco explained. “Do you need me to cast the charm?”_

Realisation dawned on memory Hermione, and she shook her head. 

_“No, I take a potion.”_

Memory Draco nodded and shifted, positioning himself at her entrance before stilling again. Memory Hermione rolled her eyes and rocked her hips, sliding her slit against the head of his cock, coating him with her arousal.

Groaning, memory Draco pushed forward, entering her slowly and prompting sounds of pleasure and relief to escape from both their mouths.

As his hips started to move, memory Hermione arched into him, meeting his thrusts. Her eyes fluttered shut again and she let out a whimper.

_“What else?” memory Draco asked, his hips moving steadily, keeping the pace steady. “What else will make you come?”_

Memory Hermione grasped his hair again, pulling his mouth down to her neck. As he started to kiss and nibble at her skin, her hand moved between them, heading for her clit.

_“No,” memory Draco said, halting her. “Let me. I want to be the one who gets you there, Granger.”_

His statement made her moan, and he grinned.

_“I should have known that words would turn you on.”_

Present Draco inhaled sharply, pulling my attention away from the scene in front of us. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes closed.

_“Can you feel that? Is the head of my cock hitting you in just the right place? Am I rubbing you the way you like?” memory Draco asked, his mouth on her ear, his hand rubbing at her clit between them._

Memory Hermione cried out louder than she had all night and started to move faster, on the edge and desperate. When she nearly sobbed her release, memory Draco started kissing her neck, sucking when he found the spot that made her squeal.

_“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight,” he grunted. “I might come with you.”_

_“Please,” memory Hermione begged. “I want you to.”_

Present Draco groaned and moved, putting distance between us, and I knew he was struggling to contain everything he was feeling.

At the time of this coupling, I had wanted Draco to be as lost in the pleasure, in the breaking of fifteen years of tension, as I was. Witnessing it from this perspective, I could tell he was, and present Draco was just as affected by the visual.

Memory Hermione keened again, her next orgasm beginning, and memory Draco spun them away from the wall. As he sat on the edge of the bed, she unlocked her ankles, letting her legs fall and her knees sink into the mattress.

Riding him, she completely lost herself. She bounced and ground against him, chasing her pleasure. His hands roamed up and down her back, gripped her arse, tangled in her hair. He touched her as if he was memorising every inch of her.

When he tugged on her hair and tipped her head back, his lips moved to her neck again, kissing and sucking, marking her skin. Memory Hermione dug her fingernails into his shoulders, holding onto him as her movements became more and more erratic as her climax drew nearer.

Memory Draco took over the movements, his hands moving to her arse and guiding her.

_“I’m close,” he hissed. “Come with me, Granger.”_

And then she leaned forward, kissing him passionately to stifle her cries of pleasure. I knew she was coming — her face was flushed and her thighs were trembling — and, with one final thrust, he finished inside of her, collapsing back on the bed and taking her with him.

Memory Hermione laughed and he tilted her face up, meeting her eyes. 

_“What’s so funny?” memory Draco asked._

_“Well, you’re wearing your shirt and I’m still in my dress.”_

Murmuring a spell, memory Draco smirked as the rest of their clothes vanished and then reappeared on the desk in the corner of the room, neatly folded. When they were skin-to-skin, memory Hermione sighed and nuzzled against his chest, inhaling his scent.

I looked at memory Draco. His eyes were open wide, like he was shocked, and his hands stroked up and down her back.

“I can’t watch the whole night if it’s like that,” present Draco said, pulling me from my thoughts. His hands were running through his hair and there was a distressed look on his face. “Fuck, I just can’t.”

After clearing my throat, I replied, “It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s just more of the same until we fall asleep. We should be getting thrown from here in just a second.”

He nodded and then it happened, the memory over. 

When we landed back in my sitting room, I looked over at him. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I’m so fucking mad at you right now,” Draco admitted, a scowl on his face. “I saw everything, and I can’t remember how it felt or how you smelled or how your skin tasted.”

“Draco—”

“Don’t,” he stated, halting me. “There’s no point in trying to calm me down, Granger. It’s not going to happen. You took something that meant far more to me than you can ever understand away from me. That moment — what we just watched — was something I had dreamed about for _years_.”

His words stabbed me in the heart, especially because I knew they were true.

“Let’s see this thing with Blaise the next morning,” he continued, gesturing to the Pensieve. “I want to see how he got me away from you. It can’t have been easy after a night of that.”

Panic flooded through me, though I wasn’t sure why. Maybe because I’d seen Blaise with Sara in the previous memory and was worried she’d turn up again. I tried to avoid the situation. “I didn’t wake up while he was there.”

“Get my memory of it then, Granger. You said you’ve got them.” He finally looked at me, a challenge written across his face. “Let’s see how your new _boyfriend_ convinced me to marry Astoria after I’d spent the night buried inside of you.”

“I… Are you sure?” I asked. “We’re only supposed to look at one—”

“As far as I’m concerned, this is one. It’s all within a few hours, right?”

I nodded. “It’ll take me a few minutes to find the right vial.”

“Didn’t you watch it?” Draco questioned. “You know, when you Obliviated me?”

“No. It’s more complicated than that.” As tears started to threaten, I tried to explain. “I would think of a day, a time, an event — something I could see the start of and recognise — and remove it. I didn’t watch much of anything. I didn’t think to; I was trying to get it done as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

I could tell his emotions were conflicted; he was happy I hadn’t seen everything, but still furious that I’d done it at all.

“Well, let’s get on with it, then,” he prompted, and I knew he wouldn’t let it go until I’d agreed.

Taking a deep breath, I summoned the chest, setting it on the table beside the Pensieve. When Draco saw it, he looked like he wanted to step forward and rifle through all the things I’d saved.

But he didn’t.

I removed the notes and letters, leafing through them one by one, and found the one he’d left that first morning. I wasn’t sure why I’d saved it — especially since it was supposed to be a one-off — but I’d brought it home with me from the Leaky and set it aside.

“This is the note you left me,” I said, offering it to Draco, but he shook his head.

“I want to see the memory first.”

Of course, the memories were at the bottom, so I continued taking things out of the trunk. My journals, the little dragon figurine, the red Cartier box. 

The perfume.

The sight of the bottle made him step forward. He picked it up and held it to his nose. Again, his eyes went momentarily blank.

“The Christmas gifts… They were for you,” Draco said, putting it all together. “All of them. That’s why Astoria didn’t have them.”

I nodded, confirming what he’d said without speaking.

He sighed. “You stopped wearing this after the lift.”

“I had to,” I replied quietly. “I couldn’t take the chance you’d link it to me. You hadn’t, at least to my knowledge.”

“I… checked, the next time I got close to you. I wanted to know if it was yours.”

My eyes squeezed shut. Of course he had.

Since I didn’t respond, he asked, “Who told you I’d put it together?”

Knowing he’d react poorly, I hesitated. “Your father.”

“Fuck, Granger! Why? Why were you in contact with my father after all of this?”

Right after I’d plucked the right vial from the trunk, I felt his hand on my upper arm, the heat radiating through my sleeve. Turning me to face him, he looked down at me, focusing on me intently for the first time that night.

“Why would you even consider speaking to him?” he asked, his tone more desperate than I’d heard so far. “He threatened you and your parents. Why wouldn’t you just stay away from him?”

“Can we just watch this?” I pleaded. “I don’t think I can even begin to explain the way your parents have insinuated themselves into my life over the past two years. I’ll show you, though. I promise I’ll tell you everything, just… not tonight.”

His grip on my arm tightened slightly. “They didn’t leave you be?”

I shook my head. “Not really, no.”

Reading the emotions on my face correctly, he backed off, releasing me and gesturing to the Pensieve. I opened the vial and tipped it in, seeing the room at the Leaky shimmering up at us. This time, I was the one who was unsure about diving in. I didn’t want to see Blaise’s reaction to finding me with Draco. 

“Let’s go,” he said.

Shakily, I brought my fingers to the surface of the memory and fell through, praying that Blaise hadn’t said anything that was going to make me even more upset.

* * *

**Memory #1, Part 2 - 3rd April 2004**

There was a knock at the door and memory Draco’s eyes shot open. He looked down at memory Hermione and I saw the panic on his face. 

_“Oh, fuck,” he whispered._

The door to the room opened and he murmured a spell, likely blocking the sound from waking her. He also ensured she was entirely covered, which I was thankful for.

When Blaise strode in, a huge grin on his face, he nearly tripped over his own feet at the sight of memory Hermione.

_“Mate, what the fuck were you thinking?”_

_Memory Draco shook his head. “I wasn’t.”_

_“Obviously!” Blaise spat. “You pick the night before your wedding to finally make a move on Granger?”_

Present Draco and I both watched as memory Draco’s hand played with memory Hermione’s hair. She was still asleep, still snuggled into his side.

_“I swear, it wasn’t like that,” memory Draco replied, looking down at her face. “I wouldn’t have. She thought this was her room and we… She said some things, and then I said some things, and we just sort of… collided.”_

_Blaise scoffed. “And what, Draco? She just magically ended up naked and bouncing on your cock?”_

_“Don’t talk about her like that, like she’s just some random witch. You know how I feel about her,” memory Draco said through gritted teeth. “Better late than never, right?”_

_“Wrong!” Blaise shook his head. “You should’ve sent her on her way!”_

_“I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t!”_

_“So you’re going to abandon Astoria on your wedding day? Embarrass her in front of everyone we’ve known since we were kids because Granger deigned to spread her legs for you after all these years? Do you honestly think things would work out between the two of you?”_

Blaise’s words shocked me. They were crass and horrible, meant to cut Draco down to the core.

_When Draco didn’t answer, Blaise continued. “It’s time to let go of this childish fantasy, Draco. You’ve been wanking to her since we were teenagers. You’ve had a taste—”_

_“One taste is not enough,” memory Draco said, interrupting him. “She’s better than I ever imagined. And she knew what we were doing last night. I made sure she was sober and wanted me before I even laid a finger on her.”_

_“Mate, I hate to remind you of this, but your father will never allow you to skip out on the betrothal contract now. And she”—Blaise gestured at memory Hermione—“won’t want to be anywhere near your family. If you two were going to make amends, it would’ve happened long before now.”_

As I watched memory Draco, I could see the doubt creeping in. He’d been so happy and sure while we were together the previous night, but as Blaise spoke, he looked more and more conflicted. I turned to face present Draco and he was just staring blankly at Blaise, likely feeling as shocked as I did.

_“How am I supposed to leave her?” memory Draco asked, looking down at memory Hermione’s face. “She’s going to hate me for this. I’m not exaggerating when I say there was a connection like I’ve never felt before between us last night.”_

_“It was sex, Draco,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes. “Her cunt is no different than the one I was buried in last night.”_

I inhaled sharply and present Draco looked over at me. I could only imagine the horror that was written across my face.

“Really nice, Granger,” he stated. “I can see why you’re fucking him now.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I’d never seen this side of Blaise. To see him saying these things, acting like I was less than Astoria… It hurt. It fucking hurt.

_“It wasn’t just sex,” memory Draco replied. “It was more than that. She felt it, too.”_

_“Did you make her come?” Blaise asked._

_Memory Draco’s face reddened. “Of course I did. I’m not selfish—”_

_“That’s what she felt, then. She’s never tried to befriend you. We’ve worked in the DMLE for over five years now. How many times have you spoken to her about something unrelated to a case? Or a book?”_

_“Not many,” Draco admitted. “We’re cordial enough.”_

_“Is that enough to give up the marriage you agreed to? To hurt someone who’s been nothing but kind and accommodating while you made up your mind?” Blaise questioned._

_“But what if—”_

_Blaise held up a hand. “Stop. You can say ‘what if’ a million times. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re about two hours from being married and Granger used you last night.”_

_Memory Draco looked down at her again. “Do you really think that’s what it was? She just wanted to fuck?”_

_“I can’t say for sure, but don’t you think she would’ve approached you before now if she were interested in_ you _?”_

I waved my hand and stopped the memory, looking over at present Draco. His eyes were fixed on the bed, on the way our past selves were cuddled together. Memory Draco’s fingers were still stroking memory Hermione’s curls, touching her like he’d never have the chance to again. 

“Have you seen enough?” I asked quietly.

He looked up. “Obviously you have.”

“Well, I think we get the idea of what happened.” 

There were tears in my eyes and my throat felt tight. I was surprised I could speak clearly.

“I think you need to see this just as much as I do,” Draco responded. “He obviously isn’t speaking very highly of you.”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I said, “He’s changed a lot since then. He stopped sleeping around—”

“Granger, let’s just finish it. I’m sure there’s not much more to go.”

I wasn’t sure if I could. 

He challenged me again. “If you really believe he’s changed, watching the rest of this shouldn’t matter.”

As usual, I relented, nodding and following his lead.

When the memory resumed, memory Draco looked up at Blaise.

_“I suppose she would have,” he said quietly. “But I’m going to hate myself if I don’t at least find out—”_

_“And what about her?” Blaise asked. “Do you think it’s fair to put her on the spot — the morning of your wedding — and ask her to decide if she wants to make a go of something? After one night?”_

_Glancing back down at me, memory Draco said, “No. It’s not fair, and she deserves better than me, anyway.”_

_“Mate, you need to be gone when she wakes up. Otherwise, you’re never going to be able to leave her. Write her a note and let’s get out of here,” Blaise replied, conjuring a piece of parchment. “Tell her that you’re sorry and you shouldn’t have done this.”_

As Blaise persuaded Draco to leave me, I felt so angry. I hadn’t realised exactly how big of a part he’d played. If he hadn’t shown up that morning, would Draco have talked to me?

Would he have married Astoria?

Slowly, memory Draco extricated himself from memory Hermione’s limbs and I saw her reaching for him, frowning at his absence. Before he’d moved, she had felt safe and warm, felt the connection that had developed after only one night start to break. 

The tears that Blaise’s words had brought to my eyes finally spilled, running down my cheeks as I remembered how I’d felt when I’d woken up alone.

Memory Draco dressed quickly and Blaise watched him almost the whole time. Occasionally, his eyes would stray to memory Hermione when she shifted or grumbled in her sleep, the charm that had been cast around her blocking out the noise.

When memory Draco took the parchment, his face was tormented. As he held the quill, his hand shook.

_“I don’t know what to say.”_

_Blaise looked at him with sympathy. “I already told you. Apologise. Tell her you’re getting married today and that you shouldn’t have done this. Maybe in another life, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger could’ve worked out. Something like that.”_

My breath caught. Draco had written that exact line. In another life, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger could’ve worked out. If there had been no Voldemort, no arranged marriages, no obstacles, he would have chosen me over and over again.

I looked at Blaise, observed the way he carefully watched what memory Draco was writing and the way his eyes kept flicking to memory Hermione. To anyone else, it would’ve appeared that he was checking to make sure she was still asleep. But his eyes were filled with desire. Watching this now — after being in a relationship with him — I knew what Blaise’s eyes looked like when he wanted me.

And then I second guessed myself. Was I full of myself? Simply assuming that both of these men wanted me made me think so.

Could Blaise, the one who’d been so supportive and patient and waited almost a full year after the affair to approach me, be that manipulative?

Present Draco tried to look over his memory self’s shoulder. I grabbed his arm. “No need. You can read it when we’re done in here.”

In all honesty, I could’ve recited his written words from memory.

When memory Draco had finished writing the note, he picked it up with shaking hands and moved back to the bed, leaning down to press one final kiss to memory Hermione’s temple. He set the note down on the pillow beside her and pulled away quickly, moving towards the door before he could change his mind. Blaise followed him out, taking one last look at memory Hermione as they left the room.

The world spun and Draco and I landed back in my house.

While I knew he’d seen my tears, I turned away, unable to face him right now. Blaise’s actions — his words — had affected me in a way I hadn’t expected. From the way he’d watched me in the pub to the way he’d artfully gotten Draco to walk away to the final glance he’d taken as he left the room at the inn… It was clear that he’d been interested in me, even then.

“Granger?” Draco said hesitantly. 

I felt my shoulders slump forwards. “What?”

“Do we… talk about this?”

“No,” I answered. “I am not going to talk about this. Not with you.”

“But—”

Whipping around, I said, “There is nothing to talk about, Draco. You listened to Blaise and walked out that day. Just like you walked out hundreds of times after that.”

The anger felt better than the tears, even if it would burn out quickly.

“Did you see how he manipulated me?”

“Of course I did! But I also saw how you didn’t really put up a fight, either,” I hissed. “Do you want to know what happened when I woke up and found that note?”

When he swallowed, I could see his throat bobbing. “Yes.”

“I spent two hours rereading it and thinking that I was crazy. I felt the connection between us, just like you had, and you left! You just walked out and left me a note like you regretted what happened,” I replied, wiping at my eyes. “And, to top it off, I got to look at photos from your wedding in the paper the next day and wonder if you’d made her feel the way I did that night.”

“I hurt you,” he stated.

“Draco, all we’ve ever done — all we do — is hurt each other.”

The truth of the statement crashed over me. From the very first night — the way he’d abandoned me when I thought there was something special between us — to the way I’d Obliviated him without really considering the alternatives, we hurt each other. The jealousy, the arguments, the stolen moments… We just hurt each other.

“Then why did we stay together for so long?”

My eyes were stinging, running dry. I’d shed too many tears already.

“I already told you,” I said, looking straight at him. “You make me weak. I couldn’t say no.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Draco replied. “There needs to be a reason other than that.”

“What do you want me to say? That I loved you?” I glared at him, my temper taking over again. “Fine. I loved you. I loved you more than anything, and it all started in that stupid fucking room in the Leaky.”

“And I loved you.”

It was a statement, not a question, but I answered him anyway.

“You did. We loved each other, and we hurt each other. Over and over and over until I finally broke. I couldn’t keep doing it, and Astoria was pregnant, and your father threatened my parents, so I just went along with what he asked me to do.”

His hands moved to his hips. “I don’t understand any of this.”

I chewed my cheek, trying to figure out how else to explain it. 

In the end, I settled on, “You will once you see the rest.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I need a day between memories.”

“But—”

“Draco, I said no. I need time.” I covered my face with my hands. “As hard as this is for you, I’m struggling, too.”

After a moment, he said, “Fine. Friday, then?”

“Friday. Same time.”

He hesitated before stepping into the Floo, looking back and parting his lips like he was going to say something. But he didn’t, and I wondered what words he’d left unsaid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See - I made sure Draco was somewhat of a gentleman. They sobered up before shagging. lol
> 
> At some point on Saturday afternoon or Sunday, I'll be posting some Blaise POV to this collection. It will be entitled "Always Waiting" and it goes back in time further than anything I've posted thus far. As we see significant moments with Blaise, I'll be adding to it.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. I did make it to 50,000 words already, but I'm still typing away. I have two holiday pieces, this story, and Alone Together all going at once.


	38. 20th-21st June 2007

* * *

**Hermione — 20** **th** **June 2007**

* * *

As soon as Draco was gone, I tipped his memory of the morning before the wedding back into the vial and set it in the trunk. I braced my palms on the table and leant forward, trying to think about what I’d just witnessed.

Sara had been at the stag party with Blaise. From his words the following morning, I could infer that they’d slept together after leaving the Leaky. I highly doubted he would’ve had time to pick anyone else up. However, I’d noticed him watching memory Hermione — me — like a hawk, like I was his prey. It made me uneasy, though I didn’t really know why. It was perfectly possible that he’d noticed I was getting pissed and was simply being a good guy, making sure that no one tried to take me home. 

But it didn’t feel that way, especially after the way he’d been behaving since Draco’s return to work. He’d grown more and more possessive, so that’s what I saw in the memory, even if that wasn’t what it was. My head started to fill with doubt and I wondered exactly how long Blaise had harboured feelings for me.

Had he gotten Draco to leave me that morning because he wanted me for himself? 

Surely if Blaise had been interested in me at that point, it would’ve been easy for him to approach me. He and I didn’t have the history that Draco and I did. We were always friendly towards each other in the office, even if we weren’t yet friends. I would’ve happily gone on a date with him if he’d shown even the slightest interest in me before I got entangled with Draco.

Thinking back, I tried to remember what Blaise was like years ago. But there wasn’t much in my memory — we’d barely spoken outside of work, and I couldn’t remember a single time where I’d felt like he was flirting with me.

I pressed my fingers into my temples and massaged.

Blaise and I had gotten close at the beginning of 2005, about halfway through the affair. He’d always insisted that I deserved better, that what Draco and I were doing was wrong. I listened dutifully and then promptly ignored him until Astoria got pregnant.

And then I leaned on him more and more. I worked cases with him to avoid seeing Draco and let him deeper and deeper into my life. Hell, after Draco and Astoria’s first anniversary, I ran to him. Immediately after talking to Lucius, I’d gone to his flat unannounced, a sobbing mess.

And he’d encouraged me to go along with Lucius’ idea to Obliviate Draco.

Had he wanted me even then?

When Draco made the same accusation, it seemed so out there, so wrong. But now… I felt like there was a good possibility it was true. Blaise made sure he was there for me every step of the way after. He’d helped me find my footing, dig myself out of the hole I’d fallen into. He’d saved me from events I didn’t want to attend, like the Weasley Christmas the first year and the Ministry ball the following May. Whenever I was upset, he’d drop everything and come running to my side.

Had he done it all for selfish reasons? Or because he genuinely wanted to help me?

I didn’t feel like I could go to his flat right now. I knew he would get upset, but I needed time to get my thoughts together. I couldn’t confront him until I did.

Without a second thought, I made my way to the Floo and threw a handful of powder down. “Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!”

Unsurprisingly, Harry was sitting on the couch waiting for me, Ron beside him. They both stood and I threw my arms around Harry’s neck, burying my face in his chest. I felt a hand — likely Ron’s — start stroking up and down my back as I cried.

“Okay, Hermione, we’ve got you,” Harry murmured into my hair. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Do I need to kill him?” Ron asked, and I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. I suspected he was being serious, though. 

Through my sobs and sniffles, I managed to say, “It’s not D-Draco.”

I could imagine them looking at each other, perplexed, over my shoulder.

Harry settled a hand on my arm and started to gently push me backwards. When I looked up at him, I could see his concern.

“It’s B-Blaise,” I choked out. “He… Oh, gods…”

“Did he break up with you over this?” Ron asked sharply. “Over Malfoy and the memories?”

Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. “It’s s-so much worse.”

Once I’d managed to calm myself, I told them about what I’d seen in the Pensieve — how Blaise had watched me at the stag party, how he’d been with Sara, the things he’d said the next morning. Ron’s face had grown progressively darker, the red that had flooded it turning to purple. Harry looked like he was carefully considering everything I’d said.

When I got to the end of the story, he asked, “Do you think that’s really what he was doing? Trying to get you for himself?”

“That’s the thing,” I began, wiping my eyes with the hem of my t-shirt. “I don’t know. I don’t know what he was doing. Harry, that wasn’t him. The way he spoke to Draco… He didn’t seem like the Blaise Zabini that I know.”

Ron settled a hand on my forearm. “But your intuition isn’t usually wrong, Hermione. What is it telling you right now?”

The swirling emotions in my brain and in my gut were obscuring the instincts I’d normally feel.

“I don’t know,” I answered. “Honestly, Ron, I’ve no idea and I don’t want to confront Blaise about it if I’m wrong. He’s been there for me for so long and he loves me. I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You said that he loves you…” Harry said, trailing off. “But you’ve never been sure if you’re in love with him or not.”

Of all things for Harry to remember about my feelings, it had to be this. Why did it have to be this? I knew he was going to ask me if I’d figured it out, but I was more confused than I’d ever been now.

“Yes,” I stated, keeping it as simple as possible. “And Draco… I knew. I knew within a few months that I was in love with him.”

“Are you still in love with him now?” Ron asked, though the look on his face didn’t encourage me to answer him truthfully.

Swallowing hard, I said, “I don’t know. I think a part of me always will be, and it’s hard to watch the good things between us and not feel _something_.”

“What did you show him?” Harry questioned.

I felt my cheeks heating. “He… uhhh… wanted to see the beginning of everything. So the night in the Leaky. His stag party.”

After taking his glasses off, Harry pressed his fingers into his eyes. “You watched yourselves shagging?” 

“Well, yes. That’s how it started. And started again.” Like a freight train, the realisation that I’d be watching yet another round of Pensieve porn with Draco on Friday night hit me.

Ron huffed out a breath. “For fuck’s sake, why would you put yourself through that?”

“Someone has to watch the memories with him,” I replied. “I’d rather not have someone else watching me fuck him.”

Harry laughed. “Can you imagine? What if it was Lucius?”

“No!” I shrieked. “I would die. I would actually drop dead if Lucius Malfoy saw me naked.”

Shaking his head, Ron said, “Well, Hermione, if you want, I could… It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Thank you, Ron, but no,” I answered, absolutely mortified that he would even offer half-heartedly. “But, Harry, do you think you could Floo call Blaise? Tell him I’m here?”

“I think you should handle this on your own,” Harry suggested gently. “You need to be honest with him or he’s going to think you’re avoiding him.”

“I am literally avoiding him tonight. That’s why I’m here.”

They each draped an arm around me. “We know that. Just tell him you’re spending the night talking to Pansy and will see him in the morning. Did he know what you were showing Draco?”

As they guided me to the Floo, I said, “I’m sure he can guess. I could go that route, tell him that I need to clear my head.”

“When do you see Penelope again?” Ron asked.

“Not until Monday, and I need to figure out what I’m going to say to her about this mess.”

He nodded. “Okay. Tell Blaise you need a day or two to think.”

When I knelt on the hearth, I started to panic. I knew how he was going to react, but I also knew I couldn’t go there tonight. I couldn’t pretend that everything was okay, and I didn’t have the energy for Occlumency. 

I stuck my head into the flames and called out his address. When I appeared in the hearth, I saw him pacing, waiting for me. He whipped around and his face fell when he realised I was only calling.

“Hermione, it’s been hours—”

“Stop,” I said, interrupting. “I’m staying at Grimmauld Place tonight. I need to talk to Pansy and Harry.”

“What? Why?” 

He knelt in front of me, getting closer, and the guilt started, crashing over me at his sad expression. And then I remembered Sara and the things he’d said.

“Because I can’t be around you tonight after what I saw. I need to think.”

Sighing, he asked, “What did you show him?”

“His stag party.” I paused for a few seconds. “And the morning after.”

“Hermione—”

I shook my head. “No. I need time to talk this through and think.”

“I was a different person back then! You know that, Tesoro.” His words came in a rush. “That’s not who I am anymore.”

“I do know that. Something just feels off—”

“This is why I didn’t want you doing this!” he growled, losing his cool. “The more time you spend around him, the more you’re going to pull away from me. You can’t fucking help yourself when it comes to him!”

“It has nothing to do with him! I kicked him out of my house afterwards and told him that I can’t do this every day!” I spat back. “This has to do with you and how you acted and the things you said to Draco the morning of his wedding.”

“That was so long ago! I don’t even remember—”

“Well, let me remind you. Does the phrase ‘ _Her cunt is no different than the one I was buried in last night’_ ring a bell for you? Do you feel that way now? I’m just an interchangeable—”

“I had to get him away from you!” he replied. “I had to get him to his wedding, Hermione. Of course you’re not interchangeable. I love you.”

Even though he’d said more, the first sentence echoed in my head.

_I had to get him away from you._

I glanced up at him. “Well, he loved me, too. But you already knew that.”

Silence fell between us, and I felt tears welling in my eyes again. Blaise looked like he felt guilty about the things he’d said, but he didn’t apologise.

“I’ll be at Grimmauld. You can verify with Harry if you think I’m lying to you.”

When I pulled my head out of the fireplace, Harry and Ron hoisted me to my feet. 

“Come on,” Harry said. “Let’s get you a drink. Pansy’s already asleep. I just figured he’d be more understanding if you said you needed girl time.”

“Thanks for coming, Ron. I know Luna is probably tired.”

“She’s fine. I got Stella to bed and then came here not five minutes before you came through the Floo. I’m here for you through this whole mess.”

As my boys led me down to the kitchen, I let myself fall apart again.

It seemed that Harry and Ron would be there to help me pick up the pieces this time around.

* * *

**Draco — 20** **th** ** & 21** **st** **June 2007**

* * *

After Granger and I decided on Friday night for the next memory, I left as quickly as possible, Flooing back to the Leaky. When I stepped out of the grate, Hannah called my name, but I just continued up the stairs. As my eyes scanned the hallway, I thought about the memory I’d just watched with Granger, the way she’d stumbled towards the doors.

And then I stopped in front of mine. Room ten. The same room. 

I’d been staying in the same room we’d shared the night before my wedding and, of course, I hadn’t remembered it. I just stared at the little number for a moment, my heart and thoughts racing. 

Since I had just seen the memory, I could clearly picture Granger standing in this exact spot in tall heels and a little black dress, completely drunk and rambling about how she’d kissed Ginny Weasley. From there, my imagination jumped to what had happened just inside the door — the way I’d kissed her, touched her, fucked her against the wall.

Letting out a groan of frustration, I jammed my key in the lock, much like she had in the memory. Of course, my key actually belonged to this lock, so the door swung open when I turned it. I saw my temporary accommodations in a whole new light now, and I almost thought about insisting Granger bring the Pensieve here so she could feel the same way I did.

As I slammed the door behind me, I threw the key at the opposite wall, not caring where it landed. My eyes caught on the bed. The quilt was different, but I could still picture her there. I sat on the edge in the same place I had when I moved from the wall, walking while she was still wrapped around me. Closing my eyes, I leant forward, my elbows braced on my knees, my hands covering my face.

She’d ridden me in this exact spot.

I’d come inside her for the first time right here.

We’d had sex all night, and then I’d held her as she slept. I’d woken up with her, listened to Blaise’s nonsense, and then left her alone in this very bed.

“Fuck,” I growled in frustration. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Flopping back, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if this is what I’d looked at while she slept in my arms. 

Had that small nick in the paint been there three years ago? 

I tried to get my brain to remember something, but it was truly fucking gone. Even so, I probably wouldn’t have noticed; all my attention would’ve been focused on her.

Granger had said the memories weren’t easy to live with, and I was already starting to agree with her after seeing the first one. I was so frustrated that I could see it and hear it, but I didn’t have the other sensory memories. The taste of her, the smell of her skin — minus the scent of her perfume — the feel of her wrapped around me.

Honestly, missing those parts made me even more angry. It was like I had half of the experience. And, since it was an experience I’d longed for, I hated her for taking it away from me.

_I think you need to see things from my perspective to understand why I did it._

How could I ever understand why she’d taken these things away from me? If this one memory had me wanting to tug my hair out, to find a fucking Time-Turner so I could go back and experience it again, what would the rest do to me?

And, if things were always that intense between us, why would she want to give it up?

_Scorpius. I didn’t want you splitting your time between home and me. I didn’t want to take time from him._

The thought of her caring about Scorpius, about the baby I’d fathered with Astoria, quelled the anger a small amount. She’d put my son before herself, though that didn’t really change what she’d done, what she’d taken from me.

I saw the near-empty bottle of firewhisky on the desk where Blaise had sat, hissing words at me to convince me to leave her. So he could have her for himself. I stood and stalked over, pulling the stopper from the bottle and bringing it to my lips. 

The pillows and sheets on the bed were white, just like every other inn or hotel in the world, but now I could see her hair on them, dark curls splayed against the white, my fingers running through them as she slept. I wanted to leave — pack up and go somewhere else — but I couldn’t stop myself from looking around. 

Now that I knew we had been together in this very room, I could see her everywhere. It was torture and fantasy rolled into one.

Gulping from the bottle once more, I moved to the window, wanting to look out and find something else to concentrate on, someone or something to watch. There was nothing that held my interest, though.

The alcohol would slow my thoughts eventually.

Turning, I looked at the section of wall again. The one where I’d fulfilled my teenage fantasies of getting into Granger’s knickers, of kissing her so hard she forgot how to breathe, and the only words that left her know-it-all lips were pleas for me, for more.

I finished the bottle and slammed it down on the desk. My hands free, I ran them both through my hair as I paced. I hated her for taking that memory — all of the memories — away from me. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted her to kick my door again so I could repeat the whole thing, fill in the gaps of smell and taste and the feel of her skin against mine.

But she wouldn’t show up here because she’d moved on with Blaise.

Blaise — she’d been watching him in the memory of the stag party. She’d seen something she didn’t like, and then when we’d watched the memory of the next morning, she’d gotten upset.

Something hadn’t been right with the whole situation, and she could feel it. It was like she had seen a whole new side of him. Honestly, I felt that way, too.

And I’d left her on her own, likely unsure if she should go to him or not.

_You listened to Blaise and walked out that day. Just like you walked out hundreds of times after that…_

Those words rang in my head. _Just like you walked out hundreds of times after that._

How many times had I left her before she decided she had to find a way to get rid of me permanently? To break the cycle?

My head was finally starting to get fuzzy, and I welcomed the muffling of my thoughts. I stripped down to nothing and looked at the bed, remembering her in it again. With a sigh, I pulled the white sheets back and laid my head on the pillow, even though it was barely nine o’clock. I rolled onto my side, laying on the bed in the same position I had with her, and stared at the empty space in front of me.

As I drifted off to sleep, one other thing she’d said flashed in my mind.

_All we’ve ever done is hurt each other._

That, I believed.

* * *

When I woke, I knew I had to go home. It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d seen Scorpius, and I felt guilty that I hadn’t been back to see him. 

None of this was his fault.

In addition, I knew I had to discuss things with Astoria eventually. I had to find out what part she played and what our marriage had been like before the Obliviation. It was clear that it hadn’t been great, and she’d admitted to sharing memories with Granger.

The disconnects in my feelings when it came to Astoria started to make sense. Certain memories had been altered and replaced, trying to convince me that everything between us had been happy and perfect before the accident.

The anger I felt couldn’t be put into words. I was pissed at my mother. I hated my father. I hated Astoria. I hated Blaise. I fucking hated Granger.

How could all the important people in my life do this to me?

How could they lie to me every single day for nearly two years?

Honestly, I wanted to just pack up and leave everyone behind. And, if I didn’t have Scorpius, I would’ve seriously considered it. 

But, in the back of my mind, I knew I would always wonder what had happened between me and Granger. How had I let something I’d always wanted slip through my fingertips?

With a sigh, I headed for the shower, vowing to set things aside long enough to have a happy visit with my son before speaking to Astoria. 

* * *

“Draco?” Astoria said, her voice weak. “I’ve been worried—”

“I’m fine. I’m staying at the Leaky. Where’s Scorpius?” 

She looked down at the floor. “Your mother has him. I was going to try to find you.”

“Okay,” I replied, unsure of what else to say. I had been hoping to have some time with Scorpius before I had to discuss anything with her. “What did you need me for?”

“We need to talk, Draco,” she said, and I knew she was right. “You’re angry, and I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you can just disappear on your son and ignore me.”

I pulled out a chair and sat at the table, gesturing for her to sit across from me. I didn’t know how to start this conversation, so I hoped she would say something that would lead into what I wanted to talk about.

“Don’t you want to know my side of things?” Astoria asked, meeting my eyes. “I know what we did was wrong, but it’s not what I intended when I went to your father for help.”

“So what did you intend?”

Tucking her hair behind her ears nervously, she looked frail, even a bit ill. I could see how tired she was. She likely hadn’t been sleeping well and had the additional strain of caring for a toddler.

“I thought your father would speak to you about the affair and tell you to end it,” she began. “I thought that he’d say something and you and I would sit down and talk things through once you knew that I’d found out.”

“Why didn’t you ever confront me?” I asked her.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know how. Honestly, I thought that it would stop once you knew I was pregnant. I swear, I didn’t know about the Obliviation until right before it happened. Your father came to me with a plan and Hermione had agreed to do it, so I went along with it. I thought it would be the best thing for us.”

“But why? If we weren’t happy—”

“We weren’t happy because of her, Draco! You heard what she said. She’d been there since the beginning of our marriage. You never really gave us a chance!”

While she was right on that count — at least from what I could tell — I still didn’t understand why she wouldn’t have tried to talk to me before leaping into my father’s scheme.

“Astoria, from what I know, you and I never even had a single conversation about Granger,” I began, watching her face closely. “Why wouldn’t you ask me about it? Tell me off? Give me an ultimatum?”

“That’s not how things are done,” she replied, her voice breaking. “You don’t just quit on a marriage because things get a little hard.”

Honestly, I couldn’t believe that she thought a marriage like ours had been worth saving. It was clear I hadn’t treated her well at all and that she’d never really made a go at fixing things between us in the early days when it would’ve been easier.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Things were clearly more than just a little hard for most of our marriage.”

She began wringing her hands, twisting and fidgeting, looking down at them. Quietly, she said, “I thought a baby — an heir — would fix things. If we had a family—”

“Did you get pregnant on purpose?” I interrupted, narrowing my eyes at her. She didn’t answer, so I repeated myself. “Astoria, did you get pregnant on purpose?”

Her tears spilled, running down her cheeks. “Draco, I love you—”

“You love _me_? The man who cheated on you for over a year? The man who was in love with another woman the whole time we were married?” I asked, standing from the table. “The man who needed to be spelled into being faithful to you?”

“Yes!” she spat. “Despite the horrible fucking prick you’ve been for our whole marriage, I love you. Since I learned I was betrothed to you, I’ve loved you. I’ve not even looked at another man!”

I scoffed. “You loved me because we were betrothed?”

“Do you know what a betrothal is to a pureblood woman?” She stood, rounding the table to get closer to me. “We’re taught it’s destiny. Fate. If a contract is created, it’s meant to be! We’re supposed to be in love!”

“That’s not how love works,” I replied, looking down at her. She was wearing a dressing gown over a camisole and likely just a pair of knickers, but I felt nothing. “Love isn’t decided by parents or contracts. It’s something you find and feel.”

“But I’ve felt it for you!” she cried, grabbing my arm. “And I know you’ve felt it for me over the past year, Draco. We’ve made love—”

“Sex isn’t love, Astoria,” I told her, pulling away. “And anything I felt for you was built on lies. It wasn’t real.”

She looked like I’d slapped her.

“But it could have been! It could be, if you let it be!”

When those words left her lips, I knew she was deluding herself. She’d never really understood me. Unlike Daphne, she’d bought into the pureblood indoctrination, believing the parents knew best and that she had to be the perfect daughter.

“No,” I answered, trying to take the harshness out of my voice. “It can’t be. If we can’t be honest with each other, this marriage isn’t real.”

“Draco, please, I know I messed up, but—”

“You didn’t just mess up. You teamed up with my father. You allowed Granger to alter all my memories. You knowingly got pregnant in hopes that it would fix our relationship. Think about how Scorpius would feel somewhere down the line if he knew that, that he was just a means to an end for you.”

There were tears in her eyes, and I could see her trembling. “So what does this mean, then?”

“I don’t think you really need me to say it,” I replied, trying to be gentle. “You’ve known this marriage would end since you found out about Granger.”

With quivering lips, she said, “You still need your father to agree to it. What makes you think he will?”

“My mother told me that they were planning on coming clean, so I’m sure he fully understands that I’d no longer stay in this farce.”

“What about Scorpius?” 

My heart squeezed; thinking about how this would affect my son was painful. “We’ll work something out. There are plenty of families who manage to share custody. I’ve no doubt that you’ll continue to take care of him as you always have.”

“So that’s it? You don’t even want to try to fix things?” Astoria asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.

I looked her straight in the eyes. “I may be talking to you civilly, but I’m furious, Astoria. Regardless of everything else, you allowed them to Obliviate me. You lied to me for a year and a half. You let me flounder and try to regain memories that were completely gone. And, when I did remember something after smelling Granger’s perfume, you lied again. Over and over again.”

Her cheeks flushed in shame, and she started wringing her hands again. She was utterly broken, but I wouldn’t stay in a marriage I’d obviously never been truly happy in because she was upset.

“I’m sorry, Draco.”

“I am, too,” I replied before heading to the Floo.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!


	39. Hermione - 22nd June 2007

Thursday passed in an uncomfortable blur, filled with stilted conversations with Blaise and extraneous work that needed to be done in Draco’s absence. Mel and Blaise hadn’t really found much of anything in Falmouth, so I’d sent them to Harry for direction. Since things were so tense between Draco and I, Draco and Blaise, and then Blaise and I, I wanted someone uninvolved to make those decisions.

Before I left for the day, Blaise cornered me.

“What’s going on, Hermione?” he asked. “Is this it? One trip down memory lane and we’re done?”

I shook my head. “I told you. I need time to think things through, Blaise. I have questions—”

“And how are those questions going to get answered if you’re not speaking to me?” 

“Can we just… I need until Saturday,” I stated, trying to hold my ground.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do you realise this makes the third week in a row where you’ve given me the silent treatment?”

As I thought back, I realised he was right. The first time had been when he got upset about me working with Draco, the second after the photos had been published in  _ The Daily Prophet _ .

“I’m sorry about that,” I said quietly. “This isn’t easy for me.”

His frustration was nearly palpable. “It’s not easy for me, either. But, like always, you don’t really seem to understand that.” Pulling back, he turned towards the door. “I guess I’ll just wait for you to decide if I’m worth keeping around now that Draco knows your dirty little secrets.”

“That’s not fair, Blaise!”

“Oh, and keeping me in the dark about how you’re feeling is?” he responded. “You promised me you wouldn’t do this, and here you are, just running away because he’s back and stirring shit up.”

“What did I promise?” I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

Blaise let out a laugh that sounded more sarcastic than anything else. “Forget about it. I guess send me an owl or text when you’re ready to really fuck me over.”

Before I had a chance to reply, he was gone, striding towards the department doors and the lifts. When I looked outside of my office, I saw others in the department watching, their mouths open. My cheeks heated in embarrassment, and I started packing my bag. I was furious that he’d made a scene in the office.

Feeling tears threatening once again, I shoved my emotions down, putting myself on autopilot. Once everything I needed was tucked away in my bag, I walked out of my office and locked the door. Harry’s door was closed, so I figured he’d already headed home for the day.

I took the lift down to the Atrium and, as I was walking to the Floo, I heard my name being called. When I turned, I saw Kingsley making his way over to me.

“I didn’t have a chance to send you a note, but the thing we discussed Monday — it’s all set if you want it. Think about it over the weekend, Hermione,” he said quietly. “Let me know if you need to discuss it.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll definitely let you know by Tuesday.”

“Have a good night. I’m on my way out, as well.”

As I stood in front of the Floo, I debated where to go. I knew Grimmauld Place was always open to me, but I didn’t want to rely completely on Harry and Pansy. I’d stayed there last night and I’d been there every time something went wrong with Blaise. 

I needed to learn how to sort myself out and deal with this mess on my own. 

Knowing I had no food in my house, I decided to Floo to the Leaky and I prayed that Draco wasn’t sitting in the bar.

* * *

When Hannah saw me step through, her eyes widened almost comically.

“Is he here?” I asked.

She nodded. “Up in his room. He’s been sticking close.”

“Hopefully he stays there. Do you think you could pack me up a couple of meals? Something for tonight and tomorrow night?” 

“Of course,” Hannah replied. “Breakfast for the morning? We’ve got some pastries.”

“Sounds great. I’m just going to pop over to Flourish and Blotts. I need to pick something up. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or so,” I told her, and she waved me away.

As soon as I was in the bookstore, I breathed easier, knowing that Draco wasn’t in the same building. I walked over to the shelf containing empty journals and selected two. I had a feeling I was going to need them, and Penelope would likely recommend that I start writing everything out again. Both food and thoughts.

When I got back to the Leaky, I took my food and departed, heading home and settling in for the night. The Pensieve and the chest containing Draco’s memories were still sitting on my table, along with everything else that I’d removed to get to the memories. Figuring I’d still need them, I simply packed away the random items and letters. My fingers ran over the edges of the Cartier box and I opened it, looking down on the diamond.

On a whim, I took the dragon figurine and set it back in its place next to the otter on my mantle. I stared at them, not sure if it was right to leave them that way or not. Since I had all of the Draco things down in the main part of the house, I decided the dragon could stay. Otherwise, I’d just be taking him in and out of the trunk anyway.

Or that was what I told myself.

* * *

The next morning, I half expected Blaise to barge into my office and demand that I talk to him. When he didn’t, I felt relieved.

And then I felt like shite for feeling relieved that he wasn’t speaking to me.

With the exception of going to lunch with Harry, I focused on my work all day. I still noticed that Draco hadn’t come into the office, but I tried not to think about that, to wonder if he’d ever come back again.

Before I knew it, it was five in the evening, and I knew I had to get home to start readying myself for another viewing of memory Draco and Hermione’s sexcapades, this time taking place in my office.

Even the thought of it had my heart racing with both anticipation and panic. I didn’t know what kind of mood Draco would be in, and I had no idea if I’d be getting turned on or upset or both all in one go.

I just knew that I had to be the one to show him what had happened between us. I wouldn’t give anyone else access to these memories. They were private, shared only between Draco and me, and I didn’t want to share. 

I hurried through the Ministry, wanting to get home with enough time to change out of my office attire. When I crossed the threshold into my house, I immediately rushed up the stairs, walked into my bedroom, and started pulling clothes out at random. Shimmying into a pair of jeans and pulling a black vest over my head, I looked in the mirror. My hair was tied back and I let it down, finger-combing my curls until they looked like they normally did. 

As soon as I was in the main living space, I sat down at the table to wait. I didn’t want to be pacing when he came through the Floo; I wanted to keep the anxiety I was feeling about this second meeting locked away. Even though I’d already told him he made me weak, I didn’t want him to see that it was still true.

A few minutes later, Draco stepped out of the grate, and I could tell he was in a foul mood. His eyes landed on me and immediately narrowed.

“I hate waiting to see my own life, Granger,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I just want to get this shite over with.”

“The healer said one memory at a time,” I told him patiently, ignoring the way he’d spoken to me. I didn’t want to argue with him. “So we’ll do one memory at a time. I can’t have you taking up all my evenings, Malfoy.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh, I know,” he snapped. “Need to have your time with Zabini.”

I honestly hadn’t thought about Blaise since I’d entered my house, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. It was clear he was trying to pick a fight, and I didn’t plan on arguing.

“So what are we looking at tonight, Granger?” he asked, his tone harsh. “Going to show me my honeymoon? Or—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, shutting him down. “I understand that you’re angry with me, but I need you to stop being an arse. We’re going through the memories I choose, and you’re going to see my perspective. Then I will hand everything over to you and you can go through it at your own pace, if the healer thinks that’s okay.”

He scoffed, and I was beyond irritated with him already. His features were set in a scowl and there were dark circles around his eyes, indicating he’d not been sleeping well. I wondered if he’d seen Scorpius, if he’d talked to Astoria or his parents.

But I didn’t ask. Instead, I stuck to the plan.

“I want to talk a bit first,” I told him. “You came back to work about a month after you got married. I tried my best to avoid you—“

“Like this time around,” he stated. 

“Yes, like this time. Except it seems that no matter what, we end up in the same position.”

And I meant what I said — since the first night we shared, any time we’d been in close proximity, it had started all over again. The feelings, the attraction, the jealousy. 

He gestured for me to continue.

“You were relentless, Draco. You were in my office nearly every day, you followed me to lunch more than once, and you made sure to approach me whenever you saw me on my own, regardless of where we were,” I explained. “And I remembered everything from that night, how intense it had been, how I’d felt a connection with you that I’d never felt before in my life.” I took a deep breath. “But you were married to Astoria. I was trying to move on — to forget — but you were always there.”

Glaring, he spat, “So you got rid of me entirely the second time around.”

“This has nothing to do with what happened at the beginning, but yes. I assumed it would be the same thing all over again!” My voice came out louder than I’d meant it to, but he was being such an arse. “I didn’t want to keep going through it.”

I could feel the tears already collecting in my eyes as I watched him. He sat down at my table, resting his elbows on it and covering his face with his hands. “Fine. Whatever, Granger. So what happened when I came back to work?”

“I couldn’t bury myself in my work during the week because you were always there. You left me alone for about a week when you returned, and then it started. A couple of weeks in, I decided to go into the office on a weekend to catch up. I was spending so much time avoiding you that I’d fallen way behind. And that worked fine, until you came in one Saturday, as well,” I said.

“Was there anyone else around?” Draco asked.

I shook my head. “No. We were alone in the office all day and you ended up asking me for help on something. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn’t.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I admitted, “You’d basically broken me down at that point. I wanted to spend time with you. I was lonely and weak.”

Looking up at me, he said, “Weak?”

“Just like I’ve told you, you make me weak. I knew it was wrong and that us working together would lead to more pain or no good or whatever you want to say, and I agreed anyway,” I answered. “But I didn’t think it would happen so fast, and definitely not that day.”

“That first Saturday?”

I nodded. “That very first Saturday. Your birthday in 2004. That’s what I’m going to show you now.”

Holding my wand to my temple, I removed the memory, the silvery strands coming out easily, like they hadn’t been buried that far down. I placed them in the basin of the Pensieve and my office was clearly visible. Not waiting for Draco, I touched my finger to the surface, disappearing into the memory.

A moment later, he dropped in, as well. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. My office hadn’t changed much over the past three years and I was sure he noticed that. 

Memory Hermione was sitting behind the desk, looking exhausted and stressed, furiously filling out a Ministry-issued form. When her quill stopped moving, she sighed. Her posture straightened and she stretched, her chest jutting out.

I didn’t miss the way Draco looked her over. He didn’t hate her — not past me — just present me. He hadn’t looked at me with desire since he’d found out about the Obliviation.

She released her hair from the bun she’d had it pulled into, curls falling down around her face and shoulders. I could tell her hair was still a little damp as she ran her fingers through it, tucking it behind her ears and reaching for another form — another request for information or help on this case or another.

A minute later, memory Draco knocked at the door. When memory Hermione looked up, I could see the conflicted feelings written across her face. She quickly turned away. __

_ “Malfoy, what can I do for you today?” _

Memory Draco stepped through the door and took a seat in front of her desk, but he didn’t speak. Eventually, she looked up, breaking the stalemate. __

_ “How was your date?” he asked, as soon as he had her full attention. _

_ “What date?”  _

_ Rolling his eyes, memory Draco said, “I heard you talking to Potter. You said you had a date with some tosser from Magical Games and Sports last night. Still have a thing for mediocre Quidditch players?” _

Memory Hermione glared at him. 

_ “I’m not doing this with you. Get out of my office.” She paused. “Or, better yet, go home to your wife.” _

_ “Calm down. I’m here to work. I just wanted to rile you up a bit. But I could use your help—” _

_ “Absolutely not,” memory Hermione snapped. “I want nothing to do with you.” _

His face fell and she looked away again.

Present Draco turned to me. “That’s always been your tell. You’re so transparent.”

“What is?” I asked, waving my hand and pausing the memory.

He gestured to memory Hermione. “That. You turn away like you’re angry, but it’s obvious this is basically flirting for you. You did the same thing with Weasley when we were kids.”

“I did not!”

“You did,” he stated. “Luckily, you didn’t take those memories from me, so I can see all your lovers’ spats clearly.”

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Who knew you were watching me so closely, Malfoy?”

Of course, as soon as the words left my lips, I felt like the biggest bitch on the planet. He had told me he’d secretly paid attention to me all the time. My stomach turned, my own memories swarming my brain. Rather than continue the conversation, I waved my hand again.

_ “Come on, Granger,” memory Draco said, his voice low and sexy, trying to draw her in. “I need help researching new tracking spells for informants. We wouldn’t want someone helpful to go truly missing.” _

Memory Hermione didn’t look up right away, but I remembered how she fought the urge to say yes immediately; what he was working on was very important and she wanted to help. And she wanted to spend the day with him, bouncing ideas off each other. And she wanted him to take her choice away, to just kiss her again, to tear her clothes off.

But she knew he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t touch her until she gave him a clear yes.

_ “I really think it’s inappropriate,” she murmured. “We shouldn’t—we can’t work together.” _

I heard a scoff, and I knew it hadn’t come from memory Draco. “Inappropriate. There’s  _ that  _ word again. You must really like it, Granger.”

The way Draco said  _ Granger _ was so different now. He didn’t sound like memory Draco in the slightest.

_ Memory Draco sighed. “We can work together. I know you don’t want to repeat what happened in April. I’m not going to keep coming after you. A month’s worth of rejections are pretty fucking clear.” _

Tilting her head up, memory Hermione’s eyes scanned his face, trying to see if he was sincere. I remembered how it had hurt, how I’d wanted him to keep chasing me. I remembered how close I’d been to breaking down, to giving in, when he’d just decided he was done.

_ “Okay,” memory Hermione said quietly. “We can try it, as long as you promise not to turn it into another way to seduce me.” _

A smile spreading across his face, memory Draco pulled books out of his pockets. Old books from Malfoy Manor containing obscure tracking spells.

“I’m sure you wet your knickers when you saw those,” present Draco grumbled. “You’re nothing if not predictable when it comes to things like that.”

I glared at him. “Fuck off, Malfoy. Honestly, why can’t you just shut up and watch?”

“Need I remind you that I am only here because I need someone to go through the memories with me? I do not want to be here. I do not want to be around you specifically. You’re a deceitful bitch, and I can’t stand to even look at you.”

Swallowing my pain, I kept quiet, letting him spew whatever vitriol he needed to. I hadn’t expected him to be this way since he hadn’t been on Wednesday, but something had clearly gotten under his skin. It didn’t matter; he’d get it eventually. He’d see how this relationship had wrecked us both.

Memory Draco handed memory Hermione a book and they both started reading, the silence between them mostly comfortable. 

“Can we get to the point, Granger?” present Draco said. “I’ve got better things to do than watch us read.”

I gestured to the clock. “So it’s about 10am for them now. I’ll move forwards.”

Speeding things up, I stopped at around 5pm. 

Memory Draco stood from his seat for the third time that day, stretching and grinning. __

_ “We’ve gotten so much done today. I’m excited.” _

_ Memory Hermione smiled back at him and agreed, “We really have.” _

_ “We’re a good team. And you know what good teammates do?” _

_ As she rolled her eyes, a blush stained her cheeks. “What do you think good teammates do, Malfoy?” _

_ “They have dinner together while continuing to work. Let me order some takeaway for us. It’s my birthday, after all.” _

_ “Why the fuck are you working on your birthday?” memory Hermione asked, incredulous. “You should be out celebrating.” _

_ Memory Draco shrugged. “This has been more fun than a typical pureblood birthday celebration.” _

_ “But what about Blaise and Harry and everyone? They took you out for the stag party!” _

_ “Potter’s about to have a baby, and I’m sure Blaise is otherwise... engaged. I’ve enjoyed spending the day working with you. We got a lot accomplished so I won’t be rushing next week,” memory Draco answered. “So let’s have dinner before we leave. We can just eat here.” _

Memory Hermione bit her lip as she internally debated, drawing the attention of both Dracos. 

_ “Come on. It’s just a meal in your office, Granger.” _

_ “Dinner and then I’m going straight home. Alone,” she caved, his silver eyes focusing on her and his sexy drawl sealing the deal.  _

With a grin, memory Draco strode out of the office and memory Hermione huffed out a breath as she watched him walk away.

I sped things up again, skipping to his return. I didn’t want to converse with present Draco if I could avoid it.

_ When memory Draco walked back in, he was holding a bottle of firewhisky.  _

_ “No way, Malfoy. Get that out of here,” memory Hermione scolded. “Why do you have it at work, anyway?” _

_ “Blaise and I used to take shots when we solved a case,” he responded, shrugging. “I just want to have one glass with my dinner. For my birthday.” _

_ Standing, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re a spoiled git. What makes you think I’ll let you drink in here just because it’s your birthday?” _

Memory Draco set the bottle and their takeaway bag on the table. With a smirk, he raked his eyes over memory Hermione from head to hips, making her blush.

_ “You find me charming. You’ve enjoyed yourself today, too. I know you won’t admit it, and that’s fine. Keep playing it cool.” _

_ “Malfoy—” _

_ He shook his head. “I’m not saying anything more. I’m just pointing out that I haven’t seen you smile like you did today in quite some time, Granger. You like debating and bantering with me. It’s got nothing to do with fucking.” _

_ Reaching for the takeaway bag, she replied, “Fine. I can admit that I do like having someone who can keep up with me.” _

Memory Draco smiled and conjured two glasses, pouring a generous amount of firewhisky into each. He pushed one to her side of the desk while she unpacked the food.

_ “One meal and one drink,” she said. “And then we’re going home. Separately.” _

“This isn’t going to be just a meal,” present Draco said, looking at memory Hermione. “I’m — I was — He’s seducing her.”

“And it’s working,” I admitted. “There will be more than one drink, and it won’t end with dinner.”

Draco looked at me. “Is this all going to be fucking?”

I shook my head. “Not all of it, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a big part of our relationship. We had sex at every opportunity.”

We watched as they had dinner, talking about the workweek and their mutual friends. Blaise especially.

_ “He’s such a slag,” memory Draco laughed, his second glass of firewhisky in hand. “You’d better watch out, Granger. Next thing you know, he’ll be trying to get in your knickers.” _

“I’d forgotten this part,” I said aloud. 

“Funny. Me too,” Draco deadpanned.

_ “Blaise has barely spoken more than ten words to me at a time. I’m really not his type,” memory Hermione replied, running her fingers through her curls. _

_ “Yeah, your tits are real,” memory Draco quipped. “And you’ve actually got a brain.” _

Watching us make fun of Blaise’s previous conquests, I felt sick. It reinforced what we’d seen in the Pensieve on Wednesday, the way he’d talked about Sara as if she was just a warm body.

_ Memory Hermione leaned forward and whispered, “I suppose you’d know they’re real.” _

Her first glass of firewhisky was gone, and she was pouring another.

_ “I suppose I would,” memory Draco said in response. “Though I’d always be willing to check again if you need me to.” _

She threw a balled up piece of parchment at him. 

_ “Pig. You’re married.” _

_ He shrugged. “I suppose I am, though my wife has been absent all week.” _

They both continued to sip and memory Hermione didn’t ask any questions about Astoria. 

_ “Did you really have that date?” memory Draco asked. _

_ She sighed. “I did. It was terribly boring. He didn’t even pretend to be interested in anything I had to say.” _

Memory Draco’s jaw clenched, and I looked over at present day Draco. His face was unreadable, no clear emotions coming through. I wasn’t sure if he was Occluding or just didn’t care anymore.

_ “Did you—” _

_ Memory Hermione held up her hand. “Don’t ask. You’re not allowed to ask that, Malfoy.” _

_ At her words, memory Draco looked away. “I know. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt.” _

_ “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ll be fine.” _

_ He gave a sharp nod in response before moving the conversation along. “Any plans for tomorrow?” _

_ Swirling the liquor in her glass, memory Hermione shrugged. “I’ll probably be sleeping in since I had this—” she raised the drink “—and then I’ll have to do grocery shopping and all of those things.” _

Present Draco interrupted. “Stop for a second.” I paused the memory again. “Who was the date?”

Snorting, I said, “Roger Davies. Ravenclaw. A few years ahead of us.”

“The one who took the Veela to the Yule Ball?” 

“The very one.”

“And did you—”

“My answer is the same, Malfoy. You don’t get to ask that,” I replied. “And besides, it was years ago.”

His eyes scanned my face, looking for my tells. I made sure there were none and restarted the memory.

_ “Sounds boring,” memory Draco said. _

_ “What about you? Plans at the Manor?” _

Memory Hermione’s voice dripped with contempt, and I imagined I would sound much the same if I spoke of the place now. It was possible I hated it more now than I did then.

_ “Not much. I’m thinking I’ll go looking for a house. I don’t like being back at the Manor.” _

_ Memory Hermione nodded, draining the last of her drink. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up. I’m going to head home now.” _

I watched, knowing what was coming. Memory Draco also emptied his glass and then stood. But he didn’t walk to the door. Instead, he rounded the desk and spun her chair around, bracketing her with his arms, his hands planted on the desk.

_ “You drive me mental, Granger,” he said, his face only centimetres from hers. “I want you so badly it hurts.” _

She looked up at him, frozen for just a moment. He didn’t move or speak again, but she could feel his breath against her lips, his need radiating off of him.

_ “I can’t stop thinking about that night,” memory Hermione confessed, her voice softer than normal.  _

Memory Draco’s eyes moved down to her mouth and it was obvious he was at war with himself.

Making the decision, memory Hermione moved forward and pressed her lips to his. He groaned into her mouth and his hands moved to her arms, guiding her to standing. The office chair was pushed out of the way and the door slammed shut with a wave of memory Draco’s hand.

As soon as she heard the lock click, memory Hermione started unbuttoning his shirt, her hands shaking. Memory Draco’s hands moved to her arse, lifting her and setting her on the surface of the desk. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as his lips moved down her neck. Inhaling sharply, he groaned again. 

_ “You smell so fucking good. I remembered this. I’ve been dying to press my nose against your neck since I got back.” _

His shirt was gaping, only one button at the very bottom holding it on, and her hands roamed around to his back, sinking her fingernails into his skin like she could keep him there forever.

“We don’t have to watch this,” I said, my face flushing. “It’s pretty clear what’s going to happen…”

Draco raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you uncomfortable with the show you chose?”

“No, it’s just… I know you don’t want to be here.”

I looked back to the memory versions of us. The zipper that ran along memory Hermione’s spine had been tugged down and they were frantically pawing at each other.

After a moment, present Draco spoke. “We’re going to watch every second of this. If you don’t want to see us fucking, you can choose different memories to show me.”

Nodding, I swallowed the lump in my throat before refocusing on the memory playing out around us.

Memory Hermione slid herself off the desk, stripping her dress off and letting it fall to the floor while she tugged at memory Draco’s belt. His shirt was already gone, thrown over the office chair, and his hands had snaked around her back to unclasp her bra.

When her breasts were free, present Draco sharply sucked in a breath, affected by the scene in front of him. He watched his memory self suck on her nipples, pressing her back against the desk. 

Memory Draco’s trousers had pooled around his ankles, stuck on his shoes. Memory Hermione was whimpering and arching into his touch. One of his hands was rubbing her through her knickers, the silky purple material darkening with her arousal.

_ “—gonna fuck you so hard,” he said against her skin. “Wanted this so much, every single day.” _

She moaned, her hand finding its way inside his pants and stroking him. And then her knickers were falling to the floor and memory Draco was spinning her around, pressing her down against the desk.

He kissed the base of her neck, his lips trailing down her spine. One of his hands pushed against her back, stilling her, while the other worked its way between her legs, rubbing at her clit.

_ “You’re fucking drenched.” His fingers slipped inside of her and she cried out. “Tell me it’s for me. Tell me that you’ve wanted this since the last time I was inside of you.” _

_ “It’s for you,” memory Hermione breathed. “I’ve wanted you to touch me since your first day back.” _

I looked up at present Draco and he was scowling. Meanwhile, my knickers were getting wet from watching us together.

_ “You should’ve told me,” memory Draco said. “I could’ve been making you scream for weeks.” _

Memory Hermione was moving, meeting the slide of his fingers, fucking them like she hadn’t come in years. It couldn’t be seen, but I knew the moment memory Draco’s thumb started circling her clit. The gasp and the moans that followed were the same as my own, after all.

_ “Are you still on the potion?” he asked, and she nodded. “Good, because it’s going to be a long night.” _

And with that, he withdrew his fingers, pulled his shorts down, and slammed inside of her, jolting her forward and making her scream with relief. Her arms reached out over her head, her hands seeking purchase on the edge of the desk. Memory Draco plunged in and out of her, setting the pace for their coupling. One of his hands kneaded her arsecheek while the other moved back to her clit.

I remembered how those first touches had felt, the way my magic had sizzled and sparked beneath my skin. The feeling became addicting, and I was sure it would be the same if he touched me like that now.

In less than a minute, memory Hermione was coming, trembling and moaning beneath him, her cunt gripping him so tightly his face was strained.

_ “Lucky for you, I silenced the room,” he taunted. “I remembered how loud you scream when you come, Granger.” _

_ “Fuck you,” she hissed and he added a swivel to each thrust. “Oh, fuck, yes, like that!” _

_ “I believe you are fucking me,” he grunted. “And you’re so tight you’re gonna make me come way too fast.” _

My eyes were fixed on memory Draco’s hand, the one kneading memory Hermione’s arse. His wedding band was clearly visible and I realised I’d also forgotten that detail — he hadn’t stopped wearing it until later in the year.

_ “It’s fine,” memory Hermione said, her voice strained. “I already came.” _

_ His hands fell on her hips, pulling them back to meet his thrusts. “Oh, Granger, don’t you want seconds?” _

She moaned again, the sound much louder than it had been before, as she continued to let memory Draco pound into her from behind.

Looking to present Draco, I was speechless. What was I supposed to say in this situation? ‘Oh, look at how hard you made me come.’

That hardly seemed appropriate.

He apparently didn’t have the same reservations. “Look at our faces,” he said. “Look at how real it is, the relief.”

I nodded. “We’d been dancing around it for weeks, and we’d only had the one night before this.”

When memory Draco pulled out and turned memory Hermione over, moving her back to sitting on the desk, our past selves made eye contact and lost control. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid into her again, his hips moving frantically. They kissed like they’d never do this again, and I knew memory Hermione had been thinking that it would just be another one off, that it wouldn’t be the beginning of something monumental.

_ “Fuck, Granger,” memory Draco murmured against her neck. “This is perfect. You feel amazing wrapped around me.” _

His mouth moved lower, sucking on her throat and collarbones, making his way to her breast. As soon as his lips wrapped around her nipple, she shuddered. I watched as he pulled back slowly, teasing the sensitive bud with a graze of his teeth. Memory Hermione fisted his hair, dragging his mouth back up to hers and kissing him deeply as she fell apart for the second time.

Memory Draco wasn’t far behind; he rocked his hips a few more times and then came, spilling deep inside of her with his face buried against her neck. After he caught his breath, he started kissing up to her ear. 

_ “Where are we going tonight?” he whispered. _

_ “I’m going home,” memory Hermione answered, the panic and regret settling in for her as their tryst ended. “You should do the same.” _

_ “I’ll come home with you,” he replied, nuzzling and not truly understanding what she’d meant. “I’ll take care of you like that all night.” _

_ She swallowed hard. “Malfoy, we can’t—” _

_ “Don’t,” he said. “Please just… don’t.” _

_ “Astoria—” _

_ “Isn’t home,” he interrupted. “And I don’t want her. I want you. Only you.” _

Again, I looked to present Draco. His pupils were dilated as he watched the scene play out, focusing on memory Hermione, waiting to see what she would say.

_ “Just this once,” she answered. “You can come and stay the night just this once. Because it’s your birthday.” _

Memory Draco lifted his head and smirked at her before kissing her again.

We were thrown from the Pensieve and landed in my house again. I noticed that Draco’s cheeks were faintly flushed, but I didn’t say anything. He pulled a chair back and sat at my dining table.

“Granger, I’ve wanted to fuck you that way since I came back to work,” he admitted, not meeting my eyes. “Is every single memory going to feel like this? Like a slap in the face?”

Sighing, I said, “I know I told you they weren’t easy to live with. You’re going to see parallels and even realise you’ve said things to me recently that you’d also said before the Obliviation.”

“How have you been living with this?” 

“Honestly, I’ve done a shit job of it,” I replied. “Half the time, I’m in my own head. The other half, I’ve been distracting myself in any way I can.”

Draco finally looked up at me, his anger seemingly burned out. “Watching these memories — has it been hard for you?”

I nodded. “Of course it has. Just because I know what happened between us doesn’t mean it’s easy for me to see.”

“I’m guessing that one night turned into more pretty fast?”

“One night turned into a week while Astoria was away in Paris with your mother,” I explained, recalling every detail like it had happened last week, rather than three years ago. “And then that week turned into the summer and then it just went on and on.”

He rubbed his hands over his face. “Right. Once we started, we just didn’t end.”

“I tried to end it. But no, we never truly stayed apart until I…”

“Until you took my memories,” Draco finished. “Got that part.”

Looking him squarely in the eyes, I said, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

With a shrug, he stood. “Do you know what you’re going to show me next?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it. Maybe a few shorter ones from the summer.”

“Sunday?” he asked.

I could tell he was getting ready to leave, but I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to ask more questions, to talk to me and tell me what was going through his mind. But I knew I’d lost the right to know what he was thinking when I violated his mind and Obliviated him.

When I answered, my voice was nearly a whisper, and I didn’t look up at him. “Yes. That would be best for me.”

“I’ll see you then,” Draco said, turning and stepping towards the Floo.

Before he left, his eyes caught on the otter and the dragon and he paused for just a moment. With one final glance at me, he left and I instantly felt his absence, the loneliness I’d felt in the weeks following his Obliviation.

And, once I was alone, I found myself thinking back to the Pensieve conversation about Blaise. We’d been joking, talking about how he slept around. These bits and pieces weren’t things I ever would’ve remembered if I hadn’t been rewatching the memories, viewing them outside my mind.

Sara’s face kept flashing behind my eyes, as well, especially when I considered that he’d been at her restaurant and pretty pissed a mere week ago. My mind fixated on that fact.

We’d had another fight and he was spending his Friday night without me. Would he be with Mel? With Sara? With someone else?

My stomach started churning.

Things had been off between us all month, and I knew that was more my fault than his, but he didn’t seem like the kind of man that would want to wait for me to figure my shite out. If he was feeling neglected or ignored, he would likely leave me.

The thought of being left behind again bothered me a lot more than it should’ve.

I started to pace in front of the Floo, my body begging me to just head to Falmouth, to see if Blaise was with Sara again. My paranoid brain was telling me that he would be there and that she would be offering him a shoulder to cry on. Hell, when we’d been on our first date, she’d talked to him for far longer than I would’ve considered appropriate, and she’d clearly slept with him.

I needed to know if he was with her.

On instinct, I went to Grimmauld Place. Harry was sitting on the couch with James tucked into his side. When he saw my frantic face, he said, “What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“I need to borrow the Cloak,” I stated, quickly trying to figure out an excuse for why I needed it.

He shrugged. “It’s in the closet in the hall. Take it. Just bring it back safely.”

“Seriously?”

“Honestly, I’m too exhausted to care what you need it for. If it has to do with Draco or Blaise, just take it. You’re not going to be able to settle until you’ve used it.”

“You’re a good friend,” I told him, heading to the closet and grabbing the cloak. “I’ll repay you somehow.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Just don’t get arrested.”

As I was heading into the hallway, I replied, “I promise. I just need to check something.”

Wrapping myself in the familiar cloak, I ran out the front door, surrounded by the scent of Harry’s cologne and consumed by my thoughts. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find Blaise with Sara or not; I just knew that I had to know.

He’d slept with her before, and I had no doubt from the way she looked at him and talked to him that she’d be willing to repeat the experience.

As I Disapparated, I focused on the little bookstore I loved.

* * *

I stood outside of Sara’s restaurant, debating with myself about whether or not I should go in. She’d be open for a few more hours, but that didn’t mean she would stay there the whole time. She had a staff.

When a couple opened the door and made their way out, I took my chance and slipped inside. I didn’t see Blaise in the immediately visible area or at the bar, but my paranoia took over. I carefully wandered around and weaved between tables, making my way to the more secluded area. 

My stomach immediately dropped. 

He was sitting at the furthest table from the door, a drink in hand, and Sara across from him. They were laughing and smiling, looking like they were on a date.

I couldn’t resist the temptation — I moved closer, desperate to hear what they were saying.

“—when we went to that little place in Sorrento for the weekend?”

“How could I forget?” he replied, laughing. 

“Gods, the water was so cold!” Sara reminisced. “I can’t believe you talked me into swimming naked!”

I wanted to throw up. A weekend trip to Sorrento sounded like a lot more than a one-night stand or a casual hookup.

“Well, it made the most sense. We were  _ already _ naked.”

Sara laid a hand on his forearm and he looked up at her. “Blaise, that was seriously the best weekend. We should—”

He pulled his arm away, cutting her off. “Sara, you know I’m with Hermione—”

“Yeah, but from what it sounds like, she’s not going to stick around,” she responded. “I’m just saying — when you’re free, I’m free. Just like before.”

Biting my lip to stay quiet, I wanted to know more about the before.

“Who knows about before, Sara? Other than us.”

She shrugged. “A few of my friends. Mel, after last weekend.”

“Wait, what?” he asked. “You told Mel?”

“Well, she could tell that I had…” Sara trailed off, contemplating her next words. “She said she could tell there was something between us, so I told her. I didn’t think it was some big secret. You took me to events before—”

Blaise sighed. “Hermione doesn’t know. I’ve never told her, and she didn’t recognise you. You look a lot different now than you did a few years ago.”

“Why?” 

I braced myself for his answer, thinking it was going to be something awful.

“When she first met you, she was jealous,” he began. “And I might have said that I haven’t been with anyone since she and Draco split. If I told her about you, I’m sure she would’ve asked when we stopped our… arrangement.”

And there it was — confirmation that he’d told Sara about my relationship with Draco and that he’d apparently lied to me. He hadn’t been celibate since I’d split with Draco — he had slept with Sara for an indeterminate amount of time.

“It was more than an arrangement,” she said quietly. “We were so close, Blaise. We were more than just… It was over three years.”

“But I love Hermione, Sara. I waited so long for my chance with her,” he responded, looking her in the eyes. “If I can make it work, I’m going to.”

Her lips trembled. “But we… You and I… We fit together. I’ve always been there for you. Anytime you’ve needed me in the past six years.”

As much as I wanted to run out the door and never look back, I couldn’t stop watching them.

“I know,  _ cara _ . And I appreciate that, but you always knew that I wanted her.”

“I don’t think she loves you.” 

Blaise shrugged. “She says she does. Things were fine until Draco was back in her life. I’m sure once she’s through showing him the memories and transfers departments, things between us will be fine.”

When Sara looked at him, I could see the tears in her eyes. “You don’t know that.”

“I don’t,” he stated. “But I’m hoping for the best.”

“That’s not how you seemed last week, and now she’s pushed you away again.”

Her words were accurate — I was pushing him away. And, after hearing all of this tonight, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to let him back in. Honestly, I couldn’t believe that he’d been going to a woman who he’d had a long-term sexual relationship with to discuss our relationship problems.

“She’ll realise that he’ll hurt her again,” Blaise said. “I’m hoping the memories remind her of how horribly he treated her, shagging her and then running off to sleep with Astoria.”

My lips were quivering; the pain from hearing him share my secrets with someone I barely knew — someone who clearly didn’t like me all that much — was getting the better of me. I took a deep breath and turned, weaving my way back through the restaurant and out onto the street in Falmouth. 

I stood beside a lamppost and cast a  _ Muffliato _ over myself. A choking sob finally escaped me and I stood there, waiting to see if Blaise came out. After an hour passed and he hadn’t, I decided to Apparate home.

Clearly, I had a lot to think about before speaking to him the next day.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always Waiting will update tomorrow, since we have some Blaise stuff going down here.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading.


	40. 23rd-24th June 2007

**Hermione — 23 June 2007**

* * *

I hardly slept at all Friday night into Saturday; the memory of Blaise and Sara’s conversation kept replaying over and over again in my head. They’d had a long-term… arrangement? Relationship? I didn’t even know what to label it, especially since I didn’t really have any details.

Regardless of what Blaise said, it had been a relationship of some kind, and he had lied to me. He’d told me he hadn’t been with anyone since I’d ended things with Draco. Honestly, that had made it easier for me to start a relationship with him. If he’d been waiting well over a year for me, I thought that he would always put me first, always choose me.

It had put me at ease, and it had been a lie. 

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that the lie didn’t mean he  _ wouldn’t _ put me first, but why had he maintained a close friendship with Sara? And how could he think it would be okay for him to? Merlin, the first time Draco even spoke to me, Blaise had gotten angry. He couldn’t possibly believe I’d be okay with the double standard.

Although, it was clear that he never intended for me to find out what Sara had been to him in the first place.

When I remembered the way she’d sat at our table when we’d had our first date, anger rose up inside of me, scorching my insides and making me feel sick. Blaise had sat there, chatting and playing nice with the woman he’d been fucking for an indeterminate amount of time, and I was none the wiser. Hell, he’d even teased me about being jealous of her, acting like it was silly.

I’d been a fool again.

This time felt worse, though. At least when I’d been convincing myself Draco would eventually leave Astoria, I’d been conscious of the other woman between us. Until recently, Sara had seemed innocent, like she was firmly in the friend zone. 

I tossed and turned, tearing the neatly tucked sheets from the bed, struggling to feel comfortable at all. Since I’d gotten used to sleeping beside Blaise, my body was searching for a pair of arms to envelop it, the warmth of another person. 

It was exactly the way it had been after Draco.

When I saw the sun rising over the trees, I groaned and cast a charm to darken the room and took a Sleeping Draught, finally giving in and knocking myself out.

* * *

The bed dipped and I felt someone settling in on the pillow beside mine. Their hand stroked over my curls, and I leaned into the touch, remembering being gently woken this way. My eyes fluttered open and I saw Blaise across from me. Everything from the previous night came rushing back.

Startling, I pulled away. 

“What are you doing here, Blaise?” 

He looked hurt and like he hadn’t slept either.

“You said we’d talk today,” he said, his voice quiet. “It’s after noon. I got worried that something had happened with Draco...”

My heart squeezed, and I realised I’d leaned into Blaise’s touch because that was the way Draco used to wake me.

I took a deep breath. “Can you wait downstairs?” I asked. “I’m just… I need a shower. I didn’t fall asleep until after the sun came up, and I took a potion, and I want to talk with a clear head.”

“I’m perfectly fine here,” Blaise replied. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll catch a little rest now that I know you’re alright.”

Swallowing hard, I climbed out of bed. I didn’t want to fight with him. If he wanted to lounge there while I showered, that was fine. I would grab clothes and head to the bathroom, rather than getting dressed in the bedroom. 

I wasn’t comfortable being naked in front of him right now. My feelings were too conflicted, and there was so much I didn’t know.

As I rummaged through my dresser drawers, I felt his eyes on me, likely trying to get a read on how I was faring. I buried everything — every thought, every emotion, every annoyance — and went about my business.

While in the shower, I thought about what I was going to say to him. I didn’t know if I should try to hear him out or simply end things. I was so angry, especially now that I was more awake. Even though I was embarrassed, I’d have to admit that I’d gone to Sara’s under the Cloak and listened in on their conversation.

I knew Blaise would blame all of my misgivings on my recent contact with Draco, but that wasn’t it at all — I felt like I couldn’t trust him if he’d started our relationship with a lie.

That was one thing that Draco didn’t do — he didn’t lie to me. Yes, he broke promises and hurt me like no one else ever had, but he was honest about everything.

As I dried off and dressed, I tried to build myself up and get ready for the confrontation. Mentally, I made a list. I wanted to talk to him about the stag party, the morning of Draco’s wedding, and Sara. It was a short list, but it felt like so much.

When I stepped back into my bedroom, I saw Blaise laying on my pillow, his face burrowed against it, fast asleep. Taking a few moments, I looked at him and thought about our relationship. Everything had been so easy and felt so right, especially before Draco came back. It had taken me a couple of months to fully open up to Blaise, but once I had, he became everything to me. I’d built my new life around him.

The thoughts of a future — of a wedding and babies and the life I had thought I wanted — still scared me. I hadn’t felt that way with Draco. In fact, I had longed to be married to him, to give him everything he ever wanted… 

I didn’t have that with Blaise, and I wasn’t sure if I should keep waiting for it to grow. It was clear that he loved me more than I loved him and, while that made things easy for me, it wasn’t fair to him. And, after the lies, I was feeling more hesitant than ever.

Sitting down on the mattress, I laid a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. 

His dark eyes opened, meeting mine, and I tried to smile. “Hey. Let’s go talk.”

“I know where this is going,” he murmured, reaching out and cupping my face. “What has he done to you?”

“What I need to talk to you about doesn’t really have anything to do with Draco. It’s about you and things you’ve said or done,” I replied, annoyed that he was already trying to shift the blame for my anger to Draco. 

With a groan, he sat up. “Tesoro, what I’ve said or done in the past, it doesn’t matter. I’m with you. I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

“But that’s the thing,” I began, nerves turning my stomach. “You love me, but you’ve been lying to me.”

“When have I lied to you?”

Breathing deeply, I looked him in the eyes and said, “I borrowed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak last night and went to Sara’s. I heard you talking to her.”

Immediately, his defenses rose and his jaw twitched in anger. “You were trying to catch me doing something I shouldn’t have been.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how you were there with her last Friday, and I saw her with you in the Pensieve memory of Draco’s stag party,” I explained, my throat tightening as I forced the words out. “From what you said the morning after, I knew you’d slept with her—”

“You should trust me!” he spat. “We’ve been together six months. Have I given you reason to doubt me?”

“I can admit that I did this more because of my own insecurities than anything else.” I paused, trying to figure out how to say the next part. “But you should have been honest with me about your relationship with Sara from the beginning.”

“Why, Hermione? It didn’t change anything. I had stopped sleeping with her before we were together, and it only would’ve made you more skittish about starting something with me,” he replied. “She didn’t matter. We went back to being just friends.”

I scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Did you hear the things she said last night? That she’s basically waiting for us to break up and she’ll welcome you back?”

“That doesn’t matter. She and I have been friends—”

“Fuck buddies,” I corrected, interrupting him.

Narrowing his eyes, he climbed off the bed. “Fine. Whatever. Yes, we had sex on and off for years.”

“Years?” I hissed. “And you got upset the first time Draco talked to me in the office?”

“I was never in love with Sara,” he spat, his anger growing. “She and I had a no-strings attached sexual relationship. I didn’t want more than that from her.”

I stood and started walking towards the bedroom door, needing to take this argument anywhere else. He grabbed my arm, stopping me. When I turned and looked up at him, I said, “We’re going downstairs. I’m not having it out in here.”

After he’d let go, I made my way down the stairs and saw the trunk on the table, the Pensieve beside it. I thought of Draco — Draco, who had usually been honest with me to a fault. Draco, who had kept my secrets and not told them to his friends. 

Pansy had said Blaise was like Draco, only available. That’s what made me examine Blaise in a new light. But, ultimately, they  _ were _ different. Blaise hovered, was overprotective, didn’t think I could handle things on my own. 

He followed me closely, speaking the whole time. “I just don’t even understand how you could possibly think what I had with Sara was anything close to what you had with Draco. You nearly killed yourself over him.”

“I did not!” I replied, whipping around to face him. “Yes, I had problems—”

“You were barely eating at all! I had to coax you—”

“Stop!” I shouted. “Can you please just stop reminding me of how I was when I was at the lowest point in my life?”

“Can you please stop heading back there?” he asked, settling his hands on his hips. “That’s what you’re doing, Hermione.”

“I’m not,” I stated firmly. “You think I am, but I’m not. I’m going to show him how things didn’t work between us.”

“You’ve had two nights of watching yourselves fuck,” Blaise snarled. “How is that showing him what  _ doesn’t _ work?”

I knew he was right, but I wasn’t going to admit that. I already knew what I’d be showing Draco next, and it definitely wasn’t a happy memory filled with shagging. 

“And you know that things changed for me as time went on! Or have you conveniently forgotten that now?”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” he replied. “I can feel you pulling away. I’ve felt it since the first time he came back into the office.”

As I looked at Blaise, trying to figure out what to say, I started piling my hair on top of my head. He watched me, reminding me of the way Draco used to watch me get ready in the mornings. 

“Listen,” I began, wrapping a tie around my hair. “I can’t help how you feel. When Draco first came back, I stayed away from him. He asked me for help on a case and you became a completely different person.”

“Because I knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself! Especially now!”

Sighing, I pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. I gestured for Blaise to take the one beside me, but he shook his head.

“Well, seeing as he called me a deceitful bitch last night, I highly doubt that’s the case.” I leaned my elbows on the table and rubbed at my temples, closing my eyes as I tried to dull the ache forming in my head. “Blaise, I need you to realise that doing this — showing him the memories — is hopefully going to give both of us closure.”

“Or it’s going to reopen all your wounds,” he retorted. “This isn’t good for you, Hermione.”

“Well, neither is putting my trust in someone who lies to me.” When his lips parted to speak, I shook my head. “There is no point in denying it. You lied to me. You’ve been making me fake promises for over a month now. And lying to me since the beginning.”

“And you’ve been lying to me, too. You haven’t been fine,” he snapped. “No one involved in this whole fucking mess is fine.”

“I can admit that,” I conceded. “But why would I tell you that when you’re clearly upset already? Hovering over me? It would’ve made you ten times worse!”

“And what did you mean by fake promises?”

“How many times have you said you’ll stop with the jealousy—”

Growling in frustration, he interrupted me. “Fine. I can’t! And it’s ridiculous that you even  _ think _ I’d be okay with you spending time with Draco.”

“ _ Working _ with Draco,” I corrected.

“And how many times did you fuck him at work, Hermione?” Blaise asked. “Did you think you were discreet before? Fucking in your office at every opportunity?”

My cheeks flamed and I looked down at my hands.

“I would never do that to you, Blaise,” I said quietly. “I would never cheat.”

His eyes moved around the main living space, taking in the trunk, the Pensieve, and finally the mantle. When he noticed the dragon beside the otter, he stiffened, but he didn’t say anything.

I realised that he’d artfully directed the conversation away from Sara, deflecting my questions  and making me feel like I was somehow in the wrong . 

“How long did you sleep with Sara for?” I asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged. “I already told you it was years.”

“How many?”

“Probably over three, on and off.”

Three years. He’d had something long-term, even if it wasn’t exclusive.

“And when did it stop?” 

I could see how nervous he was. 

“Last summer. Probably July, but maybe August,” he answered. “I swear, Hermione, it was before I even told you how I felt.”

“You still lied to me. Do you know what that does to me? How it makes me feel?” When he didn’t answer, I continued. “Do you know how many times he told me he wasn’t sleeping with Astoria? And then, out of nowhere, she’s pregnant. What if that had happened again?”

“I was always careful before you, Tesoro.”

Shaking my head, I said, “Do you think Draco was really  _ trying _ to get Astoria pregnant? I’m sure he was careful, too.”

“But I didn’t get Sara pregnant.” After a few seconds of silence, I heard him take a deep breath and exhale it slowly. “I understand that I shouldn’t have lied, but I didn’t want to end up in this situation.”

“What situation?”

“One where you didn’t trust me to talk to her or see her,” Blaise replied. “Yes, I had sex with her. Yes, we travelled places together from time to time, but obviously that died down.”

“How am I supposed to just believe that you stopped last summer?”

Blaise finally took the chair I’d offered to him, laying a hand on my thigh. “It didn’t mean anything. I’ve wanted you for years. She was just a… friend. Someone to pass the time with.” His hand squeezed. “ Once you were ready, when it seemed like you were getting better, I broke things off with her. I love you. ”

As much as I wanted to say those words back, I knew I didn’t feel them in the way he wanted me to. Especially not right now. 

“I know,” I said quietly. “ But I can’t wrap my head around the lies, Blaise. I’ve trusted you more than anyone over the past few years, and you just—”

“I’m sorry.” He started to lean closer, his lips landing on my cheek and moving towards my ear. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

His breath against my skin made goosebumps pop up on my arms, my heart skip a beat. Recognising that he was well on his way to distracting me again, I laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back. 

“We’re not having sex,” I stated. “Nothing here is resolved.”

His head hung. “I know that. But I haven’t seen you in days, not really, and I just want to kiss you.”

My teeth sank into my lower lip, debating, but I knew myself. A kiss could sweep me away, could make me temporarily forget a lot of things.

“Will you come to Penelope’s with me? On Monday?” 

Blaise looked shocked. “You want me to come to therapy with you?”

“You said I’ve been lying to you. If you come with me, you’ll hear the truth of how I’m feeling,” I told him. “I can’t guarantee that it will be all good, but it’ll be honest.”

“I don’t know if I can stomach listening to you talk about him for over an hour.” He leaned back into his chair, giving me the personal space I’d lost. “I’m sorry, but after waiting so long, it’s killing me to see you even consider him again.”

“And how long did you  _ wait _ ?”

I saw anger flash behind his eyes. “A lot fucking longer than you know.”

The conversation was moving in a different direction again, and I knew he was on the verge of breaking, of telling me something. I kept pushing.

“Why don’t you tell me then?” 

He laughed, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Fine. We can talk about it at your appointment on Monday.”

“Monday,” I repeated, even though I wanted to know now. 

“Am I allowed to stay here? Or do you need more  _ space _ ?” he asked, his voice mocking. 

Shrugging, I said, “I’m not myself right now. I’m angry with you.”

“I’m pissed at you too. It’s like you can’t even see what’s right in front of your face—”

The Floo rang, putting a stop to Blaise’s words. I walked over and knelt in front of it. A moment later, Draco’s face appeared and my stomach clenched. Blaise stepped up behind me and laid a possessive hand on my shoulder.

“Granger,” he greeted, his eyes darting to Blaise’s fingers. “I know we’re supposed to meet tomorrow night, but this is bullshit. I want to get it over with.”

“Sunday wasn’t a problem for you last night,” I answered, trying to figure out how to handle this situation. 

Blaise crouched down. “And I’m here now, so unless we all want to watch the little scenes together—”

“STOP!” I shouted, slamming my palms down on the floor. “Just fucking stop.”

They were both shocked at my outburst. Narrowing my eyes at Draco, I said, “Whether you see memories today or tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. Go home to your wife and son.” I turned to Blaise, shrugging out of his hold on me. “And here we go again with the jealous, possessive shit. You should go home, as well.” 

When neither of them moved, I stood. “Or, how about this? You can talk to each other, and I’ll head out to do my errands.”

“Hermione—”

“Granger—”

I spun on the spot, Disapparating out of my own house to get away from them.

* * *

**Draco — 24** **th** **June 2007**

* * *

For what seemed like the thousandth time in an hour, I checked my watch. It was nearly six, and I was getting ready to head to Granger’s little house again. I hadn’t been able to track her down after she’d Apparated away the previous day. Blaise and I had argued about who was responsible for her disappearing act but, deep down, I knew we were both at fault.

Like Granger had suggested, I spent the rest of the day with Scorpius. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t feel like I could tell her that I’d ended things with Astoria. Not until I took official legal steps, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet, either. I’d spoken with Astoria, agreeing to move back into the house to spend more time with Scorpius. I’d taken up residence in our guest bedroom, right beside his, and she’d left me to my own devices. 

While packing up my belongings at the Leaky, I’d looked around the room, trying to remember anything else about the first night I’d spent with Granger, but there was nothing. It wasn’t surprising — I knew the memories wouldn’t come on their own. She’d told me that.

At precisely six, I stepped into the Floo, hoping she hadn’t closed it off to me after yesterday’s altercation. The green flames swept me away, and before I knew it, I was stepping out into her living area. As I did, it struck me that I’d likely done it hundreds of times before, even if I didn’t remember it. 

“Granger?” I called. “Are you home?”

There was no answer.

I felt my adrenaline start to spike, my senses sharpening and my heart speeding up. The main level of the house was relatively open, and I didn’t see her anywhere. The handbag she carried to work every day was on the dining table beside the Pensieve and the trunk with my memories, leading me to believe she was here somewhere.

Looking towards the stairs, I mentally debated searching the house, thinking of the reasons why I should or shouldn’t. Firstly, we had an appointment, and she should have been here when she was supposed to be. It was rude to keep me waiting. I could very well go looking for her.

But, at the same time, I thought I should respect her privacy. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to see me after yesterday’s debacle. Or maybe she was in bed with Blaise and they had a Silencing Charm up.

That thought didn’t sit right with me.

What if she was hurt? Or had gotten drunk and passed out?

My mind was racing with the possibilities, and I ran my fingers through my hair nervously.

“Fuck,” I muttered, moving towards the stairs. 

Even if I hated her for what she’d done to me, I had to make sure she was okay.

I moved calmly, even though I felt more anxious than I had in years, taking the stairs one at a time.

When I got to the top, I instinctively turned left. The door was closed but not locked. As I turned the handle, I felt my heart pounding against my sternum.

“Granger?” I repeated, my voice steady. “Are you here?”

My eyes scanned the room, looking for her. The bed took up the majority of the space, though she had a rather large wardrobe with a mirror atop it and a bookcase in there, as well. 

But she wasn’t there.

I frowned and tried the two other doors to no avail; one led into the bathroom and the other to a second bedroom.

Slowly, I admitted to myself that she just wasn’t here and hadn’t bothered to cancel on me. Once again, my anger flared and it fuelled me to do something really fucking stupid.

I walked back into her bedroom, determined to find something I could remember. 

* * *

As I knelt in front of the bookcase, opening texts at random, I was shocked. One shelf — a whole entire shelf — was devoted to books that I had given her. The rest of her bookcase had been orderly, the titles arranged alphabetically, so the shelf had stood out. It was an anomaly. 

On the first page of each book I’d given her, there were notes, and the messages grew more and more personal, more and more pointed, as time moved on.

_ Meet me tonight? I need to see you. _

_ Happy Birthday, Granger. I hope you have a few bikinis. If not, you’ll be spending the weekend in Mykonos completely naked. I’m taking you away to celebrate. And no, I won’t be sending flowers this year. _

_ Granger, this one made me think of you. Let’s get away this weekend. It’s been too long since it’s been just us. How does Paris sound? _

I was so distracted by the little notes I’d left her, reading them over and over again, that I’d missed the sound of the Floo activating and footsteps on the staircase.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Squeezing my eyes shut, I replied, “Finding out about my life through notes since you weren’t here—”

“Most people would just leave,” she commented. “But, as usual, you just do what you like.”

I scoffed, rising to my feet and leaving her books on the floor. When I turned around, I could see she looked exhausted. She was leaning against the door jamb, her arms crossed over her chest protectively.

“Well, Granger, I wasn’t sure if you were up here and then I got angry and curious when I didn’t find you.”

Shrugging, she said, “I don’t have the energy to get mad at you right now. And it’s not like you haven’t been in here before.”

The thought of all the time I’d spent in this room and couldn’t remember made me feel uncomfortable.

I took a few steps towards the doorway — towards her — and she looked nervous. “Shall we go downstairs and get tonight’s torture over with?”

Granger pressed her fingertips to her eyes. “I suppose I could show you something. I’m just drained.”

“Lead the way,” I said, ignoring her comment even though I felt the tiniest pang of worry.

She sighed and turned, making her way back down the stairs. 

“So, after your birthday, we sort of…” Her voice trailed off until she took a seat on the sofa. “Well, we kept at it. I always told myself it was the last time, and you would agree with me, and then we’d find ourselves locked in a file room or my office. It was all physical—”

“For you,” I interrupted, knowing it was so much more than that for me, even with my memories gone. “It was all physical for you.”

She gestured to the armchair, and I took a seat.

“Yes, for me. It was more for you.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, she looked straight at me. “And I think I always knew that. Somewhere along the way, it became more for me, too.”

“So are you going to show me more shagging?” 

Shaking her head, she said, “No, I’m not. I’m going to show you the first time I tried to end things.”

I watched as she pulled the memory from her mind, knowing that it would hurt like hell. The silvery strands clung to the end of her wand, fragile and wispy.

“ _Accio_ _Pensieve_ ,” she murmured, and it came towards us, landing on the coffee table with a soft _thump_. “Draco, I’m exhausted. Do you want to just watch this one on your own and we can talk about it when you get back?”

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “Are you okay?”

“I will be. Everything is just… It’s a lot right now. And Blaise...” She paused, glancing over at me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk to you about this. Suffice it to say, I’m just not sleeping well and I can’t settle down enough to rest.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I understand that more than you know.”

Granger chuckled bitterly, the sound so different from her normal laugh. “Oh, I know you do.” She gestured to the Pensieve. “Go on. Let’s get tonight over with.”

Reaching out, I touched the memory and was swept away, landing in Granger’s office.

The door was closed and I saw my memory self sitting across from memory Granger. Her desk calendar was turned to August, giving me a rough estimate of when this had happened.

_ “We can’t keep doing this,” she began, cutting right to the chase. “You’re married, and it’s wrong.” _

Memory Draco glared, but he didn’t speak.

_ “It was fun while it lasted—” _

_ “Don’t you dare say that,” he hissed. “Don’t you dare act like it was nothing.” _

_ G _ ranger rolled her eyes in the infuriating way she always had since Hogwarts.

_ “It  _ is _ nothing, Malfoy. It has no potential. It’s a doomed relationship that isn’t going to go anywhere. Why should we prolong it?” _

At her words, pain crossed my past self’s face, though it was only for a second. 

_ “It has potential,” he replied. “You know it does. I know you can feel—” _

_ “Feelings don’t matter in this situation. In fact, I’m putting a stop to it before there is more attachment. We had sex. A lot of sex, and it was—” _

_ “Don’t you dare say ‘fun’ again. This wasn’t just a bit of fun for me.” _

_ Memory Granger looked down at her hands. “Fine. It wasn’t just fun for you. But it was for me.” _

_ “You’re lying, Granger.” Rising to his feet, memory Draco moved towards the door. But, before he left, he turned and said, “But keep telling yourself that you felt nothing over the past two months. Maybe you’ll eventually believe it.” _

I watched my past self walk out the door of her office, slamming it behind him. Before the memory skipped ahead, I saw tears in Granger’s eyes. She dashed them away with the back of her hand, but it was clear that she’d be crying for a while.

The next scene must have been a few days later. Granger was standing in the middle of the DMLE, speaking French to a man who had to be some sort of diplomat. Glancing around the room, I found my past self sitting at a desk, his eyes fixed on her. When the French bloke touched her arm and made her laugh, I could see how angry I’d been.

_ “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Frenchie asked. _

_ Memory Granger smiled and nodded. “Can we meet at the French restaurant in Diagon Alley around seven? Or, if you’d prefer, we can go somewhere else. I just realised—” _

He cut her rambling short, smiling and kissing the back of her hand. __

_ “It’s a date.” _

She glanced over at memory Draco and he shook his head, looking away.

Time jumped again, and I found myself in the restaurant she’d mentioned. Memory Granger was walking through the door, Frenchie’s hand on her lower back. Again, I scanned the room. When my eyes landed on a shock of white-blond, I hissed in discomfort.

Memory Draco had come to watch Granger and brought Astoria along as a cover. Fuck, I’d been just as stupid then as I was now.

And, of course, Granger spent the entirety of her date avoiding memory Draco’s eyes, focusing on flirting with her Frenchman. But memory Draco’s eyes rarely strayed from her. He was monitoring her movements, waiting for an opportunity to corner her. He kept up the ruse, talking to Astoria and making her giggle, but his attention was focused on the other witch in his life.

When memory Granger stood from the table and made her way to the loo, memory Draco followed her.

In the bathroom, Granger stood in front of the mirror, her face stressed. When memory Draco entered, he locked the door, and I noticed the way her shoulders stiffened.

She was clearly upset and sending every nonverbal signal possible to him.

_ “What are you doing, Granger?” memory Draco asked quietly. “Why are you denying that you want this?” _

_ “You know why. This is wrong, Draco. You’re married.” _

Resting his chin atop her head, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her firmly against his body. As I watched the scene, I found myself wishing that I could truly remember what it felt like to hold her close like that, to have the scent of her hair and perfume right under my nose, to feel her body heat radiating against me. 

A flush rose in memory Granger’s cheeks and she squirmed, eventually turning and looking up at him. __

_ “Let me go.”  _

The words held two meanings; she wanted memory Draco to let go of her both physically and metaphorically. But I already knew he wouldn’t — that he hadn’t — so his reply didn’t really surprise me.

_ “I can’t. You’re all I can think about.” _

And that was true — even after I’d been Obliviated, she had lingered in my mind. I found myself thinking about her more and more after I returned to work. Eventually, she had become my focus again.

_ “Go back to your wife. I’m going back to my date,” memory Granger spat, clipping the words. _

I could see the jealousy memory Draco felt in his eyes. They were hard, cutting, steely. 

_ “Are you going to take him home with you?”  _

_ Playing the game perfectly, she shrugged. “I haven’t decided.” _

_ “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Please don’t make me watch you leave with someone else, Hermione.” _

_ “It’s none of your business what I do.” _

Finally, she pulled away and made her way out of the loo, never looking back. I was forced to follow her back to her table, so I wasn’t sure what memory Draco was up to — if he was still hiding out in the ladies’ or if he’d just popped into the mens’. While she resumed the chatter with her date, her eyes kept jumping towards the short hallway that led to the toilets.

A few minutes later, memory Draco reappeared and she immediately averted her gaze, pretending to focus on her date. But her eyes kept bouncing back up, and it was clear that memory Draco knew she was watching him. He leaned into kiss Astoria, feigning happiness, and memory Granger’s hair seemed to fill with static.

_ “—continue this night back at my hotel?”  _

My attention snapped back to memory Granger and her date.

_ “What?” she asked, surprised. _

_ Frenchie smiled at her and said, “We’ve had a nice night. I was hoping you’d want to continue it.” _

I watched the conflict on her face, the way her breathing sped up the tiniest bit. She was panicking, looking from her date back to memory Draco and Astoria, whose fingers were interlaced atop their table.

Fuck, I had been such a hypocritical, jealous wanker.

_ “I’ve really enjoyed myself, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” memory Granger replied, giving him a sweet smile. “How long are you here for?” _

_ “Just a week,” her date replied. “I’ll be leaving next Wednesday.” _

_ Her teeth sank into her lower lip and his eyes focused on it. “I’d love to go out again before you head home.” _

_ With a smile, he said, “I’d love that, too.” _

A split-second later, I was in the casefile room in the Ministry and memory Granger was flipping through a folder, her eyes focused on the words in front of her. When I looked towards the doorway, memory Draco was standing there, watching her.

_ “Are you going to speak to me?” _

_ Memory Hermione shook her head. “Why should I?” _

I had to agree with her in this case. She was right to freeze him out.

_ “Granger, you know this is more than—” _

_ “It’s not,” she interrupted, her head snapping up. “It’s nothing, Draco. It’s a dirty little secret between the two of us, and it’s not healthy.” _

Stepping fully into the room, memory Draco closed the door behind him, locking it with a wandless spell. He leaned against a shelf filled with case folders and binders. Memory Granger looked at the door like she was praying it would pop open, but at the same time, she took a step towards memory Draco. I wasn’t sure if it was subconscious or purposeful, but she went with it, taking another and another until she was standing in front of him, noses nearly touching.

_ “What we had—” _

_ “Have,” memory Draco corrected her. “What we  _ have _.” _

_ “No,  _ had _ ,” she replied. “What we had was an affair. You’re not available, Malfoy. You’re a married man.” _

_ “I’ll make myself available,” he responded. “Granger, I’ll be there whenever you want me to be. I need you.” _

Her resolve was visibly faltering, the indecision on her face telling me more than her words had. Memory Draco realised it too. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and burying his face in her hair.

_ “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t.” _

_ “Hey,” memory Draco soothed. “You can. I’ll always be here when you need me, Granger. And if you want more than what we have, all you need to do is ask.” _

And I knew, then and there, that she had eventually asked and I hadn’t followed through on what I’d said to her.

_ Looking up at him, she said, “I need time.” _

He sighed and readied himself to release her. But before he could, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, kissing him hard, her fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck. 

Memory Draco groaned, his hands moving down to her arse and grabbing.

They were kissing like it was the last time they’d ever have the chance, and I wondered how Granger had kissed me when she  _ knew _ it would be the last time. Was it like this — passionate and desperate with roaming hands? Or was it calmer — slow, sweet, and lingering, like she was memorising every part of me?

For a moment, I thought present Granger had decided to show me shagging again. Before memory Hermione and Draco could get to that point though, the door sprang open and I saw Blaise standing there, a look of disgust on his face.

_ “Mate, what the fuck are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes bouncing back and forth. “Are you two seriously playing grab-arse in the filing room? What are you playing at? You’re  _ married _.” _

Memory Granger’s face turned scarlet and she dropped her head, resting it against memory Draco’s chest. I focused on Blaise, though. While he’d been glaring at memory Draco initially, his eyes dropped to Granger’s arse, to her thighs. He was blatantly checking her out, and I recognised the look on his face.

He was jealous — absolutely seething with it.

_ “Give us a minute, Blaise,” memory Draco hissed. “I’ll come find you.” _

_ Squirming away, memory Hermione said, “No, it’s fine. I’ll just… He’s right. I’ll go.” _

When she disappeared from the file room, the memory sequence ended and I found myself back in Granger’s living room. 

But not for long.

The memory she had shown me closed a gap — completed a connection — and it continued in my head.

_ Throwing up a  _ Muffliato _ , memory Blaise said, “Let me repeat myself. What the fuck are you doing?” _

_ “I can’t help it. I need her. I can’t forget—” _

_ “You can,” he said. “And you absolutely fucking should.” _

_ “Blaise, you know how long I’ve wanted her,” memory Draco replied, desperate. “She wants me. Gods, I fucked up. Why did I go through with that wedding?” _

_ “Because it was the right thing to do, Draco. You and Astoria had already settled on everything. You would’ve humiliated her—” _

_ “But I’m miserable now!” Within the confines of my memory, I saw my past self pacing, running his hands through his hair. “Granger is all I can think about. Once wasn’t enough. Fuck, I’ve had her a hundred times now, and it’s still not enough.” _

I watched memory Blaise, and I saw the flash of anger — of jealousy — in his eyes again. He’d wanted her then, maybe just as much as I had. He’d never even mentioned it.

_ “Then you need to divorce Astoria, mate.” _

_ Memory Draco laughed miserably. “I can’t do that. Not without Lucius’ approval or death.” _

_ “Man up and ask him,” memory Blaise said, even though his words were choked. “You can’t keep carrying on with her like this. It’s not fair to Hermione, and it’s certainly not fair to Astoria.” _

_ “Do you think Hermione actually wants to be with me?” _

_ “Well, she’s shagging you, yeah?” _

_ “You know just as well as I do that shagging doesn’t mean anything,” memory Draco replied. “I know how to push her buttons better than anyone else. We have that tension between us — always have.” _

_ “Ask her, then.” He shrugged. “Ask her what she’d do if you left Astoria.” _

_ “She told me she needs time to figure it out. I already told her I’ll give her whatever she wants.” _

_ “You’re playing a dangerous game, Draco,” memory Blaise warned as he shove his hands in his pockets. “You, Hermione, and Astoria are all going to end up hurt.” _

_ “Yeah, well, I’m hurting either way.” _

When I came to, Granger was in front of me, kneeling with her wand in her hand. I could see the concern in her eyes.

“Are you okay, Draco?” she asked. “Fuck, you just zoned out. Maybe this isn’t a good idea—”

Before she could spiral, I interrupted her. “The memory continued. Apparently you didn’t get everything.”

Shock settled over her features, parting her lips and widening her eyes. “What?” 

“I remembered the conversation I had with Blaise after you left the room,” I clarified. “Fuck, I wonder how many times this is going to happen.”

She didn’t move, just continued to kneel in front of me. I was slumped in an armchair, and I wondered how many times we’d been here before, maybe in this exact position.

Pushing my fringe back, I let out a huff. “Granger, I’m fine. Go back to your spot on the couch.”

She stood and stretched, her eyes never leaving mine. When she raised up on her tiptoes and her back arched, I wanted to groan. The way she was positioned and the way her body trembled with the strain of the stretch… It sent my brain on a path it shouldn’t be on.

“What did you think?” she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Of what?”

As she settled back onto the couch and covered herself with the blanket, she replied, “The memories.”

My eyes squeezed shut. “Mostly that I was an absolute arse.”

“You were, especially at first,” she replied with no hesitation. “Using Astoria to make me jealous and trying to manipulate me.”

“But you were no better,” I said, not willing to let her forget. “You knew I was watching you.”

“I know, but I was single. I was free to do what I liked.”

While she had a point, her actions had definitely been more malicious than that. She’d wanted me to notice her, to be jealous of the bloke she was going out with.

“So, what happened next? Did I follow you on your second date?”

Granger laughed. “There was no second date. He ended up finding some witch from another department to have a shagfest with before he went back to France.”

“Obviously you and I—”

“Picked things back up, yes.” Turning to face me, she gave a weak smile. “And, after that, things seemed to get a bit more serious.”

I nodded, trying to sort through what I was feeling. I was still angry with her for showing up late, but her exhaustion and resignation had tempered that. While I knew I didn’t forgive her for what she’d done, arguing with her would get me nowhere.

“Did you—” I paused, unsure if I should ask this or not. “Did you watch the memories you showed me? Or just pull them at random?”

She seemed confused by my question. “I pulled scenes I remembered clearly.” 

“I think you should look at the last one, when Blaise finds us,” I said, getting to my feet. “And you need to talk to Hannah, Granger.”

“Why Hannah?”

Sighing, I said, “Because I had a conversation with her a couple of weeks ago, and I think you need to know what she told me about Blaise.”

Her hands went to her hair, pulling it up and twisting it into a knot atop her head. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because it needs to come from her so you know it’s the truth,” I stated. 

As I stepped towards the fireplace, I noticed the otter and dragon were gone from her mantle. My eyes lingered there and she must have known what I was looking for.

“They’re back in the trunk,” she offered. 

I nodded, though the pain that radiated from my chest was unexpected. 

“Draco, I…” Her voice trailed off, the words dying on her lips.

Facing her again, I waited for her to continue.

“I’m sorry,” Granger said, standing up. “I should’ve been here when I was supposed to be. I’m just — this is hard for me, and Blaise—”

“I get it,” I replied, even though I wanted to lash out and tell her I didn’t fucking care how Blaise felt about all of this. “It’s not easy for anyone.”

There were tears welling in her eyes again, and I knew she was losing the battle against her emotions. I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I knew I couldn’t stay, either.

I couldn’t be the one to comfort her. 

She had said it already — all we ever did was hurt each other.

Granger had Obliviated me. Lied to me. Conspired with my fucking father, of all people. She had jumped from me to Blaise — my best mate — and yet I still cared about her, despite my anger and how much I felt like I fucking hated her for throwing away what we’d clearly had.

I couldn’t forgive her, let alone comfort her. 

It didn’t matter that I felt like I would give fucking anything to stop her tears, to make her smile again.

I  _ shouldn’t _ have felt that way. She’d done this to herself — to us — and it didn’t matter why.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, making myself head for the Floo.

“Tomorrow?” 

As I grabbed the Floo powder and tossed a bit into the grate, I nodded and replied, “I’ll be at work. I need to speak to Mel and get back to the case.”

She let out a deep breath and I wasn’t sure if she was shocked or relieved.

“See you tomorrow, then.”

I called out my home address and stepped in, turning to face her. Her eyes had widened, making the tears even more evident.

She must have thought I was going home to be with Astoria, that we had reconciled.

Without even trying to, I’d hurt her again.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> I am going to go back and respond to comments from last week today or tomorrow! I started to and then work continued to be crazy.


	41. Hermione - 25th June 2007

When Monday morning arrived, I woke with a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. My appointment with Penelope was at eight and Blaise had reluctantly agreed to meet me at her office. Robotically, I went through my morning routine, trying to figure out exactly what to say.

How did I sum up everything that had happened from the time I left her office on Monday?

Gods, how had it only been a week?

And did I tell her the full truth? That I’d Obliviated Draco and now he knew about our past?

I just couldn’t decide.

Before stepping into my Floo, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself for what I was about to endure. She’d have questions and likely be upset with me for lying to her, but there was nothing to be done about it. It was all in the past, and that couldn’t be changed. As I’d learned, the past can sneak up on you, come back to haunt you when you’re least expecting it.

Everything I’d done — everything I’d lied about — over the past three years was catching up with me now. I had two options — try to hide from it or simply finally deal with it.

When it came to Draco, pushing him away and running hadn’t worked. I had a feeling it would be the same with Blaise; he wouldn’t let go without a fight. Especially since he’d apparently wanted to start something with me for longer than I’d realised. The parallels between them just continued to grow, making me feel like I’d been blind to everyone around me for most of my adult life.

Squeezing my eyes shut for just a second, I steadied myself and then threw the powder down. I let the flames whisk me away, hoping that Penelope would forgive the lies and help me sort myself out again.

* * *

Blaise was already in the waiting room when I arrived. He stood but looked at me with uncertainty; he didn’t know how to greet me.

I didn’t know how I  _ wanted _ him to greet me.

Settling for a somewhat awkward half-hug and a kiss on the cheek, I felt my nerves picking up again. For years, falling into Blaise’s arms had been so easy for me. It had felt so right, first as friends and then as lovers.

But now?

I felt like I hardly knew him at all, and the forced closeness made my skin crawl.

“Hermione,” he said, his voice stiff.

My breath caught and I had to force his name out. “Blaise.”

We sat on one of the small sofas, a few inches of distance between us, and it felt like we were miles apart.

A few minutes later, Penelope came out and looked surprised to see us both sitting there. She took it in stride, though, welcoming Blaise and inviting us into her office.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Mr. Zabini,” she began. “Hermione didn’t let me know that you’d be joining us.”

Rather than letting Blaise answer, I interjected. “There have been some… developments since last Monday.”

His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“Developments?” she asked.

And then I word vomited. I told her everything — from the duration of the affair to Astoria’s pregnancy to Lucius’ blackmail to the Obliviation to Draco’s discovery of the photos last week. It all came out in a rush, the abridged story only taking about fifteen minutes to tell.

“That’s — Well, that’s a lot,” Penelope answered, and Blaise scoffed. She turned towards him. “You’re angry.”

“Of course I’m angry. Did you just listen to all of that?” he spat. “Draco fucks her around for almost two years, and then she erases their affair, I help her get better, and now that he knows about their past relationship, she’s pulling away from me—”

“Blaise, that is not why—”

Penelope cleared her throat, halting our argument. “I’m assuming that since you’re here, you need a mediator?” I nodded, and she continued, “Okay. Let’s go back to where you left off. Draco now knows everything—”

“Not everything,” I interrupted. “He knows we had a relationship, and I’m showing him pieces of it because he needs someone to monitor him while he watches the memories.”

“And Blaise, you’re upset that she’s doing this,” Penelope stated.

He nodded. “I am.”

“Hermione, how are you handling watching the memories?”

Dropping my eyes to my lap, I said, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Sometimes it seems like it’s going fine and then other times it feels hard to deal with.”

“Okay,” Penelope said, her attention shifting to Blaise. “And you think she’s pulling away from you?”

“She is,” he replied. “She has been since the moment he came back to work.”

“Hermione, do you want to tell him about what we talked about last week?” Penelope asked.

After taking a deep breath, I looked over at Blaise. “Since Draco’s come back to work, I’ve felt like you’re a bit possessive. Overbearing. It’s not anything I haven’t told you before, for the most part.”

“For the most part?” he questioned.

“Well, I’ve noticed similarities between the way Draco acted when we were together and the way that you treat me,” I said in a rush. “You’re… similar.”

Penelope observed us carefully.

Blaise narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?” 

I stood and started pacing. “He also acted like he had some sort of claim over me, like I was his and couldn’t speak to other men.”

“Do I act like that when you speak to  _ men _ or just to Draco?” 

When I thought about it, I realised he had a point. But, at the same time, I thought about my birthday, before we’d started dating.

“What about when Theo was flirting with me on my birthday?”

He groaned. “You know why that was. If we ran into Theo today and the situation repeated itself, I wouldn’t care if he eye-fucked you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I responded. “I haven’t been around a male who’s not you or Harry or Ron in a long time.”

“Hermione—”

“And you’ve kept me separate from your life, the same way he did,” I said quietly. “I haven’t met your mother or a single friend of yours besides Sara, and you know how I feel about her.”

He was thinking back, grasping for straws, and I watched the realisation dawn on him. “It wasn’t intentional. My mother — she’s a lot.”

“Everyone’s mother is a lot.” Continuing to pace, I added, “If my mum could remember me, I’d warn you that she’s a lot before you met her. I would still have made the effort to introduce her to you before now.”

Penelope cleared her throat. “May I?”

Waving his hand, Blaise gestured for her to go ahead.

“Blaise, what you need to understand is that someone like Hermione — who was the other woman for so long — needs complete transparency from you. Feeling like she’s being hidden away, tucked inside some little box, it’s triggering for her,” Penelope explained. “And the possessive behaviour — acting like you don’t trust her — that likely sets her off, as well. She’s been through all those feelings before.”

“And you lied to me,” I stated, my voice low. “You broke my trust.”

Penelope looked over at him. “What happened?”

He sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. “I had a relationship — or friends with benefits situation — with my friend Sara—”

“For over three years,” I interjected.

“—and I didn’t tell her about it.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s also something that’s going to be very hard for someone who is dealing with the specific issues that Hermione has to overcome.” Focusing her attention on me, she said, “What else, Hermione?”

“We bury every hard conversation with sex,” I admitted. “We use it as a distraction — and it’s always been good between us, so I’ve never once complained.”

“That’s more you than me most of the time.”

“I know that, but it’s not healthy. Especially when I’m doing it to hide what I’m feeling and keep you happy.”

Penelope gave me an encouraging smile.

Blaise’s face fell. “Hermione, I never asked you to do any of that. I didn’t want you to act a certain way or pretend anything just to make me happy.”

“Everyone wanted me to be better.” I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated. “You and Pansy and Harry and, fuck, even I wanted to be better. I thought that if I made you all believe I was fine, that I really would be fine.”

“Before you react,” Penelope began, looking at Blaise, “let’s talk about Hermione and her abandonment issues.”

“Abandonment issues?” Blaise asked. “She’s never…”

Once again, I breathed deeply. “Blaise, after the war — after Ron and I broke up, I wasn’t really speaking to Harry. And then Ginny left to play for the Harpies, and I couldn’t fix my parents’ memories, so they were gone, too.” Blinking the tears that were forming away, I said, “I was alone all the time. No one really tried to spend any time with me, and—”

“You’re completely thick,” he interrupted, standing and grabbing my hand. “ _ Everyone _ wanted to date you back then. You just never realised it.”

“Draco, yes—”

He rolled his eyes. “Not just Draco. Me, Hermione. Half the blokes in the years surrounding ours at Hogwarts.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Penelope said, cutting him off. “She  _ felt _ completely alone.”

“I was afraid that you would leave if I wasn’t who you thought I was, if I hadn’t completely moved past Draco and how I’d been after I Obliviated him.” Meeting his gaze, I continued, “I didn’t want to lose you, so I pushed a lot of things down and hid what I was feeling. I saw him before the ball. I just — I never told you because I fell apart.”

“What?” he hissed. “When did you see him?”

Pulling my hand away, I wiped my tears and replied, “I saw him in Diagon Alley — he was with Astoria, and they had Scorpius with them as well. I wrote about it in my journal—”

Pain — pain I’d caused — marred his handsome face, making him look harder, angrier. “You’ve been writing to him again?”

Unable to speak, I simply nodded.

“I want to read it,” he snapped. “All of it. I want to see it today.”

“I’m not even showing it to him,” I replied. “I don’t think it’s fair—”

“Fair? Please, Hermione, tell me what’s fair. Is it fair that I’ve been competing with his memory since the beginning? Or that you feel like you can write all your thoughts to him and not talk to me?” 

Sitting back down, I leaned forward and braced my elbows on my knees, hiding my face behind my hands. “You knew, Blaise. You knew what you were getting into when you started a relationship with me.”

Penelope must have silenced him or gestured for him to remain silent because he didn’t answer.

“Hermione,” she said, her voice gentle, “I think you both have good points, and we’re making progress. You’re opening up and talking.”

Sniffling, I forced myself to look up at her. “It doesn’t feel like progress.”

“But it is,” she replied, gesturing for Blaise to retake his seat beside me. When he did, she smiled. “Now, I know you’ve both had a hard time recently, and Draco’s reappearance in Hermione’s life has brought up a lot of issues. Is there anything else you need to bring up specifically?”

“Yes,” I answered, and I felt Blaise stiffen beside me. “I wasn’t happy that you told both Sara and Mel about my relationship with Draco.” 

“I didn’t tell Mel anything. I did tell Sara — a long time ago. She’s always known. I don’t know if she said something to Mel,” he explained, and his voice was steady. “Hermione, I wouldn’t tell anyone who had contact with Draco about the Obliviation. Why would I take that chance?”

Everything he was saying made sense, but I was having trouble believing him. He’d broken something between us — or I had — and I just didn’t trust his answers. But I remained silent.

Penelope’s eyes bounced between us. “Okay. Here are my thoughts,” she began. “Hermione, you need to open up and tell Blaise what you’re thinking and feeling. I know I’m the one who told you to journal and write to your ex, but I don’t think that’s the right thing for you anymore. If you can’t speak about these things to Blaise, I would recommend writing to him and letting him read it.”

“I’ll try,” I replied. “But I’m not willing to share my previous journals with anyone.”

“And Blaise, I think you need to come clean about everything — Sara, the nature of your relationship with her—”

He interrupted her. “I have. I told Hermione everything after she  _ eavesdropped _ on a private conversation.”

His statement made me curl in on myself; I was ashamed that I’d behaved that way.

“She has trouble trusting,” Penelope said calmly. “She was in a situation where she wasn’t put first, and she’s lost a lot of the people who were important to her. I’m not saying that eavesdropping is right, but we can discuss healthy ways of communicating so that Hermione doesn’t feel suspicious of your friendship with Sara. And, on the other hand, so you don’t feel suspicious of her friendship with Draco—”

“She shouldn’t even  _ have _ a friendship with him,” Blaise stated. “He’s a fucking acromantula, and she’s going to get caught in his web again.”

“Blaise, I already told you that I’m showing him what didn’t work between us!” I replied, my voice straining.

Penelope held up a hand. “Okay, I think we need some ground rules here. Number one, the two of you need to actually listen to each other and try to trust. Number two—” pausing, she held up two fingers “—no sex until you’re in a better place. Sex will just cloud the issues and hide them for a short time.”

“We haven’t had sex in over a week,” Blaise said sullenly. “Which, by the way, isn’t normal for us.”

“Noted,” she answered, her tone clipped. “Number three, you will sit down and talk about your feelings or issues at least twice more before you come back here.”

Nodding my head in agreement, I said, “That’s all fine with me.”

With a sigh, Blaise also committed to the ground rules.

“Good,” Penelope said, her charmed quill coming to a halt. “Blaise, I need a few minutes alone with Hermione. Could you please step out?”

Rising to his feet, he left her office, not sparing me a glance. As soon as he was gone, I stood and started pacing again.

“Hermione, how are you doing?” 

“My life is a catastrophe.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can trust him. I really, really don’t. He lied to me about Sara, and they had a sexual relationship for years.”

“That was definitely wrong of him. He should’ve been honest with you,” she agreed. 

“I know that,” I snapped. “Why do they lie to me about other women?”

“They?”

“Draco and Blaise,” I answered. “Both of them. They both just lie.”

“Hermione, I know you like to move around while you’re talking, but you need to sit down and look at me for a minute,” Penelope said, and I turned towards her. She waved towards where I’d been sitting previously and waited for me to obey. Once I had, she continued. “You always knew Draco was married. Did he promise to leave her?”

“A thousand times,” I answered, remembering each and every one. “But that’s not what I meant just now.”

“Could you explain?”

“He told me he was staying at the Leaky,” I began, the words flooding out. “But, last night, when he left my house, he went home. To her.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Penelope said gently. 

“It does. It means that he’s going to do the right thing and fix things with her for Scorpius’ sake. He’s forgiving her and he’s going to forget me.”

The quill started scribbling again, clearly finding something of note in this bit of conversation. Penelope didn’t speak, just made eye contact with me.

After a moment, I said, “And that’s what I wanted all along. I wanted him to choose his son, not me.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because you’re on the verge of tears right now.”

I swallowed hard, unable to answer. Her eyes darted to the clock, looking at the time, and she sighed. Given the amount of time it had taken for me to tell the story, I knew our time was up.

“I think you should come back this week, Hermione. Alone. I don’t think having Blaise here today was helpful.”

Nodding, I replied, “I can do that.”

And, deep down, I knew I  _ needed _ to do that.

“Good. Get something set up. I want you to talk to Blaise a bit before you come back, if you can.” Meeting my eyes, she said, “I think you have some hard decisions to make and I can only help you so much.”

She was absolutely right — only I could decide what was right for me, or if I could forgive him. 

* * *

Much to my surprise, when I stepped out of Penelope’s office, Blaise was already gone. I’d thought he would wait for me, but his anger must have won out.

After scheduling an appointment for Wednesday, I made my way to the Ministry. In addition to everything I was going through personally, I had to make a decision about what I wanted to do professionally, as well.

When I thought about the prospect of coming to work and being on my own — no Harry, no Draco, no Blaise — I found that I felt a lot better. I wouldn’t have to constantly think about who was watching me, what every single knock on my office door would bring. 

If I worked in the Department of Mysteries, I could just be me. I could choose my projects and how I spent my time, more than likely. As much as I hated using my celebrity, I could pitch projects and they’d likely accept them. If I wanted to study time or death or love, I would be able to.

I wouldn’t be fixated on catching dark wizards and potioneers, on helping Harry or Draco or Blaise. 

Work could be my escape. I needed space, especially right now. I needed to have that time to myself. 

In that moment, I made the decision. I had to find myself again, and I couldn’t rely on anyone else to help me with that. I wanted to be me — not a version of me that someone else had shaped into what they thought I should be. And I couldn’t ask anyone for their opinion on the matter. 

Even though I knew I didn’t have an appointment with Kingsley, I marched through the Ministry and straight to his office, barely giving anyone a second look on my way. Fully expecting to be turned away, I was shocked when his secretary ushered me into the Minister’s office.

Kingsley looked at me and smiled. “Good morning. I take it you’ve made a decision?”

Nodding, I replied, “I have. I need a change, Minister.”

“I think you’ve needed one for quite some time.” My face must have shown my shock because he continued, “Yes, I’ve noticed a change in you over the years.”

“Kingsley—”

“There’s no need to explain,” he said, halting my words. “I don’t want you to leave the Ministry, so I’m willing to help you and give you whatever you need, Hermione. Fight for magical creatures, invent spells or potions. It’s all up to you. You were never meant to continue fighting if you didn’t want to.”

I exhaled, my relief evident. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask for what you want. If you’re feeling empty, then you have nothing to give others. There are different kinds of contributions.”

“I need to be my own person,” I said, admitting it aloud for the first time. “I can’t just be Harry’s friend, or Blaise’s girlfriend who also works in the DMLE.”

With a laugh, he replied, “You’ve always been your own person. I’ve never thought of you as Harry’s friend or anyone’s girlfriend or, hell, the brainy part of the Golden Trio. You’ve always been Hermione, and it’s an honour to know you.”

Once again, I felt tears welling in my eyes. 

“Thank you, Kingsley.” 

He waved off my appreciation. “Now, when do you want to make this change?”

“Well, Harry and Malfoy are both back. And I think Malfoy would be a natural fit for my role,” I began nervously. “He’s very good and can generally handle his own research.”

“Okay, so as soon as possible?”

“Talk it over with Harry,” I said, losing a bit of nerve. “If he thinks they’ll be okay without me, I’d like to do this sooner rather than later.”

Kingsley smiled. “The DMLE isn’t going to crumble without you, you know. If it did, we’d have much larger problems than I can even fathom.”

I laughed and covered my face with my hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make it seem like I feel that way.”

“Go and start packing your office, Granger,” he said, his deep voice giving me an order — direction — before I could falter. “Wrap up what you have on your plate this week, and we’ll see about moving you down to the Department of Mysteries next week.”

“Okay. I’m sure we’ll be in contact later this week.”

“We will be. Have a good day.”

Knowing I’d been dismissed, I walked out his office and back to the lift. After hitting the button for the DMLE, I finally exhaled. 

Five more days.

I could survive five more days.

* * *

I arrived in my office and looked around, taking in the photos and items that had made up my space for nearly a decade. Sure, I’d added to them over the years, but I still had some of the originals.

A Hogwarts pennant — not Gryffindor, since I was proud of my school, not just my house.

A photo of Harry, Ron, and I, taken a few days after the battle.

My Order of Merlin, First Class.

The books that lined my shelf — textbooks, references, rune dictionaries.

_ Anima _ , the book that had started this spiral with Draco, was still at my house, leaving a glaringly empty space on the shelf. 

Photos of me with James and Sev, reminding me that I needed one with Lily.

A photo from the Ministry ball — Blaise and I entering the ballroom.

As I set my bag down, I considered each item carefully, wondering if I should take it with me to my new office. But, when my eyes fell on the picture from the ball, I felt my stomach drop and my anxiety picked up.

I’d thought it was a sweet gesture, the way Blaise had set this photo on a shelf a few weeks earlier, but now I saw it in a new light. It was yet another way to mark what he perceived as his territory. In the photo, his arm was wrapped tightly around me and he was smiling widely. He called me treasure — not something like darling or sweetheart or love — but treasure, something to be jealously guarded.

Pulling my iPod from my bag, I slipped my earbuds in and started to catalogue what I wanted to pack, pointedly ignoring that photo and trying not to consider what that meant.

Deep down, I already knew, but I wasn’t ready to accept it yet.

* * *

My door burst open, pulling me from my focused state and making me jump out of my skin. 

“I need you,” Draco said, his voice desperate. 

Just as my mind started to run away with what those words meant, he clarified his statement. “I went to Falmouth this morning, and that building where you saw Jera, there’s a different rune on it today. I just went down and got a warrant.”

The potioneer case. The reason why he’d come back to work.

Pulling my earbuds out, I said, “Right. Of course. What rune is it?”

“Fehu,” he responded. “I’m thinking it means either—”

“A fertility potion, or Amortentia.”

“Or Felix Felicis,” he added. “It can also stand for luck.”

“What do you need me for? You should just take Blaise and Mel if you think this is it,” I stated, knowing I’d be no help on a raid.

“It’s strongly warded today.” Draco put his hands on his hips. “And there are several rune clusters on the side of the building. I’m guessing they’re responsible for the warding since I saw Eihwaz and Thurisaz.”

“I thought you didn’t know runes.”

He sighed. “I may have read that book on how they modify protective runes last week and those ones are pretty common. Can we please just go? We don’t have time—”

Getting to my feet, I slipped my shoes on and he raised an eyebrow. “You sit in here barefoot?”

“Always have,” I answered, not bothering to tell him he’d reacted the exact same way the first time he’d found out. “Women’s shoes are bloody uncomfortable.”

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Draco turned, falling into step beside me, and I felt his hand on my back for just a second before it dropped away.

Blaise, who was standing at his desk, had noticed it as well. Setting his papers down, he made his way towards us.

“Malfoy,” he said. “Where are you going? I thought we were going to work on your potioneer case today.”

He hadn’t even acknowledged me.

Draco, not missing a beat, said, “I went to Falmouth this morning. The building Granger originally identified is heavily warded and the rune that was on the front of it has changed.”

“Great,” Blaise replied. “I’ll back you up. I can grab Mel, too.”

“That won’t be necessary. Granger and I—”

“Hermione isn’t an Auror. She shouldn’t be going to a takedown.”

While I agreed with him, my hackles rose. Once again, I knew why he was doing this — he didn’t want me to be alone with Draco.

“I need her,” Malfoy answered. “The wards are linked to runes. She can likely take them down without causing a fuss.”

He seemed confident in my abilities, which was more than I could say for myself. Minus rebuilding my own wards, I hadn’t really done anything with protective magic in years.

Blaise looked over at me, seemingly reading my thoughts. “When was the last time you did something like that?”

Before I could answer, Harry stepped into the office and saw us standing there. His eyes narrowed and I shook my head. He didn’t need to jump into this pissing contest.

“It’s been awhile,” I admitted. “But I’m sure I can still manage it.”

“And after this morning? Is your head clear?”

Draco’s eyes shifted between us and I felt my cheeks heat.

“My head is fine,” I hissed. “What about yours?”

“Granger, we need to go. Potter, do you want to come with us?”

Harry sighed. “I don’t go out in the field, Malfoy, but I’ll make an exception today. Zabini, you’re staying here.”

Anger radiated off of Blaise. “Are you joking?”

“I will not have you and Malfoy squaring off in the middle of Falmouth and blowing this case,” Harry stated, leaving no room for argument. “And Hermione casted and took down protective wards all through the war. She could do it in her sleep.” He stepped forward and settled a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I know you can do this.”

“Okay,” I said, meeting Blaise’s eyes. “I’m fine. And Harry will be there, so you don’t need to act like I’m doing something wrong.”

Once again, he didn’t say anything, just turned and stormed over to his desk.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Blaise’s back and shook his head. “Let’s go.”

* * *

I stepped up to the building, shrouded in Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. My finger traced over Fehu, the same way it had over Jera. While runes carved into buildings weren’t uncommon, ones that shifted were.

Fehu — wealth, luck, energy, fertility, foresight — was definitely not a rune I used often, but I could see the symbolism in it.

And fertility potions were illegal, unless prescribed by a practising healer. Felix Felicis wasn’t illegal, but it was extremely difficult to brew. Either potion would fetch a hefty sum.

With a quick flick of my wand, I reversed the rune, altering the meaning. Reversed Fehu meant failure and loss.

And whoever was running this operation was about to lose.

Moving away from Fehu, I walked along the side of the building, my fingers tracing along the stone until I found exactly what I was looking for. The modified Y of Algiz was smaller, hidden away in the center of another rune.

Algiz meant protection and was intended to ward off evil but, in this case, it seemed to be protecting an evil-doer.

The small rune was within Othala, which symbolised home. I held my wand to Algiz and started chipping away, leaving Othala entirely undisturbed. Once Algiz had been erased, I moved towards Thurisaz and Eihwaz. They were large, but I systematically removed them, as well.

And then I carved a new rune into the side of the building, strategically placing it where Eihwaz had been. Teiwaz — for justice and authority.

For good measure, I also cast an Anti-Apparition ward over the house to try and contain whoever was in there.

When I moved back towards Harry and Draco, their eyes were focused on the building, waiting to catch a glimpse of something or someone.

“Where is she?” Harry asked, his voice nervous. “It never used to take her this long.”

Rolling my eyes, I kept walking.

“I’m sure this is a bit more complex than what she cast as a teenager, Potter,” Draco snapped. “She’s fine. You know she can handle herself better than just about anyone.”

The way he believed in me filled me up the same way it always had. Even when my confidence faltered, he trusted me. He didn’t hover or doubt my abilities.

Bolstered by his words, I stepped into their impromptu stake-out location, removing the Cloak. Harry jumped and Malfoy smirked.

“See? She’s fine.”

I nodded. “I am. The wards are down. You should be able to get in.”

“Do you think we need more than two?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “I’m not sure. Granger, do you want to follow us in? Or should we call for backup?”

“I’m not an Auror.”

“Like that stopped you when you were a teenager,” he said, his voice almost teasing me, making my heart skip a beat. 

Harry met my eyes. “It’s up to you. I know I shouldn’t let you, but Malfoy’s right — you handle yourself better than most.”

“I’ll be an extra wand,” I replied. “But I’m not going to jump in unless you tell me to.”

“Am I taking the lead or are you?” Draco asked Harry.

“You go ahead,” Harry answered. “This is your case, and you’re the one who came back here and realised it was active. Mel and Blaise all but abandoned this site last week.”

With a quick nod, Draco Disillusioned himself. I handed the Cloak to Harry, and he shook his head. “You wear it, Hermione.”

“No, I’m fine with a charm. This is yours and you have your little ones.”

Sighing, he reconsidered and shrugged it on, and I felt a Disillusionment Charm trickle down my spine. 

Turning to where I could see the vague outline of Draco, I said, “Thanks, Malfoy.”

“Watch my back, Granger. That’s it. Don’t go running off after anyone.” His hand squeezed my arm, and I could feel the warmth of his touch through my sleeve. “Hear me?”

“Got it.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, starting to move, and Harry and I followed in his wake. 

* * *

As soon as we breached the door, it was obvious that this had been an active brewing location for quite some time. There were cauldrons in every room, each one labelled with a different potion. 

Polyjuice. Fertility. Strengthening Solution. Aging and De-Aging. The Drink of Despair. Lust. Amortentia. Veritaserum.

Moving through the house, we eventually came to a locked door and my adrenaline spiked. 

“ _ Alohamora _ ,” Draco hissed, unlocking it. 

As soon as the door opened, a flash of red whizzed by, somehow missing all three of us. Either Harry or Draco quickly fired a wordless spell into the room, a flash of blue-green bouncing off a Shield Charm.

Harry’s voice cut through the air. “ _ Expelliarmus! _ ”

I nearly rolled my eyes. With Stunners and curses flying, he still went for disarming, even after all these years. However, a second wand flew towards Harry — like always — and I wanted to laugh.

Draco took two steps forward, breaching the entryway, and shouted, “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Making my way in behind them, I saw Marcus Belby, wandless and raising his hands in the air. “Who’s there?”

Draco dropped his charm and shot an  _ Incarcerous _ at him. “Is this what your uncle taught you? To brew illegal potions?”

Belby shrugged. “They’re not illegal.”

“They are if you don’t have a license to sell them,” Harry said, removing the Cloak and draping it over his forearm. “For a Ravenclaw, you’re not very bright.”

“I sell the regulated ones to the apothecaries,” he said, shrugging. “What they do with them after that is out of my hands.”

“I suppose that’s why you were in here with the building warded and the door locked,” I stated. “That would be totally normal for a potioneer who was doing things above board.”

“I strongly believe in safety,” he answered. “Can’t have just anyone waltzing into an active potions lab. All sorts of bad things could happen.”

“While that’s admirable, this building wasn’t warded like this a week and a half ago,” Draco said, hoisting Belby to his feet. “You knew we’d found you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t all that hard, Malfoy,” he replied. “After all, your wife knew where I was.”

Time seemed to slow as Belby’s words sank in, questions forming in my mind.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowing and moving between Draco and Belby.

“Mrs Malfoy bought potions from me,” he answered, looking smug. “I’m in the same place I was two years ago.”

_ What had Astoria done? _

Draco looked at him, clearly curious but holding his questions back, trying to resist the goading.

“I mean, you must have been satisfied with the results. She never came back, and I think I saw in the papers that you got your heir,” he offered.

“What are you saying?” Draco asked, his voice dangerously low.

“She told me she hadn’t been able to conceive. I sold her a strong fertility potion.”

I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, speeding up at the implications.

Astoria had taken a potion to  _ ensure _ a pregnancy.

_ She hadn’t been able to conceive. _

They’d been  _ trying  _ to get pregnant.

“You don’t need me anymore, right?” I asked, somehow keeping my voice even though I felt panic like never before racing through me.

Harry turned, took one look at my face, and said, “We’ve got it handled. Especially since Belby just admitted to private sale of a regulated potion.”

The colour drained from Belby’s cheeks.

Taking a step towards me, Draco held out a hand. “Granger—”

“I’ll see you later,” I stated, turning and walking out before he could touch me. 

As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I Disapparated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a safe and happy holiday!
> 
> Since there is no Pensieve porn this week or next, you should check out my contribution to LadyKenz347's Deck the Halls with Dramione fest. It's called All Wrapped Up in Red Satin, and it's a smutty little thing based on a lovely illustration by NuclearNik.
> 
> Until next week! ❤️


	42. 25th-26th June 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know I'm late!

***Please note: The first section of this chapter takes place BEFORE Draco finds out about the Fertility Potion.***

**Astoria — 25th June 2007**

* * *

It had been a week — one full, complete week — since Draco had found out about the Obliviation.

I was living in hell again. But, this time around, it was somehow worse.

He had stayed at The Leaky Cauldron for nearly the whole week, only dropping in to see Scorpius once a day. We'd barely spoken, other than the time he'd told me things were over between us.

Two days ago, when he stepped through the Floo with all his things, my heart momentarily sped up, foolishly believing that he might have chosen me — wanted me — only to be smashed to pieces once more.

He'd moved into our guest bedroom and barely spared me a glance, even when he bumped into me wearing nothing but a towel. His indifference cut me to the bone, especially after a year of close contact between us. If I'd never felt Intimacy with him, I wouldn't have missed it now. For the thousandth time, I hated myself for what I'd done.

Draco wasn't happy, and neither was I.

When I heard him moving around the house this morning, I knew he was going back to work — back to seeing her every single day — and I started seething again. I didn't understand how he could forgive her, but not me.

As soon as I heard the Merlin-be-damned coffee pot start up, I climbed out of bed, squeezing my eyes shut when I immediately got dizzy. In an attempt to steady myself, I settled one hand back on the mattress and waited for it to pass.

When it finally did, I wrapped myself in a dressing gown and slowly made my way downstairs, stepping into the kitchen.

"Good morning," I greeted, trying to act as normal as possible. "Going back to work today?"

Draco nodded. "I am. I need to wrap up the case I've been working on."

"Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

It took him far longer than it should've to answer the simple question, the same way it had years ago.

"I'm not sure. I'll be catching up on things since I was out of the office for a week," he began, pausing to pour his coffee and take a sip. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

Breathing deeply, I gathered my courage and said, "Your parents have been asking about you. They haven't heard from you in nearly a week. I thought maybe—"

He glared at me over the edge of the mug, silencing me.

"I'm not ready to speak to them again."

"You shouldn't punish your mother—"

"Fine," he corrected, setting the mug down and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not ready to speak to my father yet, and I can't listen to her defend him. "

"You're speaking to me," I pointed out. "And you're speaking to Hermione. We're just as guilty as your father in all this."

"Astoria, I _have_ to speak to you. We're co-parenting our son."

"And Hermione? Why are you speaking to her?"

I knew I was playing a dangerous game by pushing these buttons, but I needed him to think clearly, to realise he was being unreasonable.

"She has all my memories and I want them back," he replied. "Believe me, I wish I didn't have to speak to her, but the last memory she showed me triggered me to remember more. I can't view them alone if that's going to happen. I essentially blackout."

Draco's anger was clear; he wasn't lying to me.

"She could've said no to your father, you know."

"And you could have tried speaking to me about the affair instead of going to him for help," he snapped. "You all were in the wrong. Hell, Astoria, even I was in the wrong. I shouldn't have stayed married to you whilst carrying on with Granger."

His maturity shocked me. In the past, he wouldn't have admitted that he was also at fault.

"That's exactly my point! We all contributed to this situation, so holding a grudge against one person—"

"Stop," Draco said, holding up a hand. "You know my relationship with my father is complicated at best since the war."

"Your parents love you more than anything," I told him, hoping it would lead him to mend things with Narcissa at the very least.

Shrugging, he swallowed more coffee. "They have a strange way of showing it. Always have."

"Draco—"

"Just stop," he cut in. "I will speak to them when I'm ready to, and not a moment before."

Chastened, I looked away, my eyes focusing on the tiled floor and the dark wood of the kitchen cabinets he was leaning against. His trousers were perfectly pressed and his shoes shined like they were brand new. He was immaculate, as always.

This version of him — Auror Draco Malfoy — appeared perfect in every way, even though he was far from it. Affairs, mistresses, lies and long hours… Gorgeous, but dangerous.

He made my head spin and brought unnecessary stress into my life.

"Can you and I at least call a truce? Talk some things over?"

Considering my question, he looked away.

"We've already called a truce. We're living under the same roof. There's been no arguing."

"It's been a day and a half and you've hardly even looked at me, let alone spoken to me about anything serious," I stated.

Draco sighed. "Honestly, if not for Scorpius, I would've left and never spoken to any of you again."

"Okay, but we have Scorpius, so you're not going to do that," I began carefully, knowing I could very easily push him away for good. "You're going to need to mend fences with everyone. I can't imagine you'll just cut all of us out of your life."

After a moment, he looked straight at me. "I don't have to mend fences with anyone. All of you need to understand that until I know exactly what happened, it's going to be impossible for me to forgive any of you."

With that, he downed the remainder of his coffee and headed towards the Floo.

"So, what? You just expect me to sit around and wait for her to show you years of memories? I don't know what happened between you and Hermione, not really, so it's not like I can tell you myself!"

He paused, looking at me over his shoulder, part of his pushed-back fringe falling down onto his forehead. "Honestly? I don't expect you to wait. I told you that this marriage is over. You and I built what we had the past two years on lies. We weren't really even friends before, if my understanding is correct."

For the hundredth time in a week, my eyes filled with tears. "You're right."

"I don't know if I can commit to it right now," he said tentatively, "but, with some time, maybe we could figure out how to do that — how to be friends. For Scorpius' sake. I don't want to fight with you for the rest of my life, Astoria."

I pulled my dressing gown around me tighter, like it could protect me from the ice in his eyes and stop the trembles that racked my body.

"I don't want to fight, either."

He nodded. "Good. I'll see you later."

"See you later."

As soon as he vanished through the green flames, I let myself collapse into a chair and cry.

* * *

"Mama!" Scorpius shouted, waving his little utensils in the air.

It was going on seven in the evening and we were sitting in the kitchen, eating the meal the manor elves had brought us for dinner.

"Yes, Scorpius?" I cooed, trying to get him to speak more quietly. My head was pounding and I felt nauseous and weak. "What do you need?"

"More!"

Of all the things he'd eaten tonight, I knew there was only one he'd want more of. I put another spoonful of mashed potatoes on his tray and went back to reading over a gossip piece in the evening _Prophet_.

We'd spent our day in the house. After my conversation with Draco and my crying jag, I hadn't felt like doing much of anything. I was feeling drained from the stress, and I just kept replaying made-up arguments over and over in my mind.

I was well and truly losing it.

A few minutes later, the Floo glowed green and Draco stepped through, looking exhausted just as exhausted as I felt.

"I saved a plate for you," I said with a smile, trying to engage him. "How was your day?"

When he looked at me, I could see the anger in his eyes.

Almost immediately, he summoned an elf, and that made me even more nervous.

"Can you please give Scorpius a bath and get him ready for bed?" Draco asked, and the elf nodded.

At the sound of Draco's voice, Scorpius screeched, "Dada! Dada!"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. I was surprised; he never grew frustrated or annoyed with Scorpius. Usually, he lit up at his acknowledgement.

A heavy weight — dread — settled into my stomach.

"Hey buddy," he said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Cherie is going to give you a bath and then Dada will come see you. Is that alright with you?"

Lifting him from the high chair, Cherie said, "Master Scorpius will be fine with Cherie. We's done this before. You eats a good dinner, Master Draco."

When he looked over at me again, I felt the temperature of the room drop, goosebumps erupting on my skin. Something bad — worse than bad — had happened today. I thought back to the conversation we'd had this morning, and I knew the chances of us being friends were dwindling, if not already destroyed.

Once Cherie had Disapparated with Scorpius, he said, "I'm going to ask you something and I expect an honest answer."

I swallowed hard, wondering what else he could have discovered.

"Okay," I replied quietly. "Ask me anything."

"Did you know I was trying to track down an illegal potioneer?"

My heart sped up. "No."

"Well, that's the case I've been working on since I've been back at work," he explained, his voice straining as he held back his anger. "Do you happen to remember Marcus Belby?"

Looking away, I said, "What did he tell you?"

"Did you buy potions from him, Astoria?" Draco asked.

I sighed. "I'm assuming you already know the answer to that question if you're asking it."

"What did you buy?"

"Well, it wasn't his uncle's Wolfsbane, obviously."

He took a few steps closer and said, "Look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes and tell me you took a fertility potion."

I could smell the firewhisky on his breath, likely fuelling his anger and giving him the liquid courage he'd needed to come here and confront me. He wasn't drunk, but he certainly wasn't sober, either.

"Fine," I replied, tilting my head back. "On our first anniversary, I took a fertility potion. I got you to sleep with me by making you feel guilty and we conceived our son. But don't worry, Draco. I let you run back to your girlfriend the very next day."

"How could you do that?" he snarled, banging a fist on the dining table. "How could you manipulate me into getting you pregnant?"

I laughed bitterly. "It was easy enough." At his glare, I continued, "It's not like you weren't an active participant in the process."

Taking a step back, he said, "And did you use a love potion, too? A spell—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I didn't need those things."

"How could you—"

Rising to my feet, I crossed my arms over my chest and cut him off. "How could _you_ have an affair? How could you just marry me and then not even try to make it work? Especially after you kept me waiting for _years_!"

He didn't reply.

"And another thing — how could you just lie and lie and lie? Over and over again, every single time I'd asked you where you'd been! What did I ever do to deserve that?"

"Why would you do that?" he asked, pointedly ignoring my question. "If we weren't happy, why would you want to bring a child into the middle of it?"

Now, over two years after the fact, I could see it had been a crazy idea but, in a roundabout way, it had worked.

"Because it was the only way, or I thought it was the only way. I was desperate, Draco. You never even gave our marriage a chance."

Running his fingers through his hair, he turned around, leaving me staring at his back. He was wearing Muggle attire again and the thin shirt stretched over his arms and shoulders as he moved.

"When it really comes down to it," he began, his voice calm and quieter than it had been before, "I never should have agreed to marry you. Not after I'd slept with Granger the night before the wedding. I should've called it off."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew it was the truth, but it hurt nonetheless.

"You agreed to marry me long before that," I replied. "You should have turned her away — the first time and every single time after that."

Noticing the bottle of wine on the counter, he slowly made his way over and summoned a clean glass from a nearby cabinet. I wanted to tell him that the last thing he needed was more alcohol but I held my tongue.

"Maybe that's true," he said, pouring himself a portion and then drinking deeply. "I should have turned her away, but I'm a selfish bastard, Astoria. I've always fancied her, and I couldn't pass up the chance."

He wasn't telling me anything that I didn't already know, so I was able to keep my expression passive.

Draco turned to face me again. "I didn't think she would ever give me the time of day, let alone have a relationship with me."

"I know," I answered. "I know you well enough to understand _why_ you didn't approach her before we were married."

"Here's what I don't get. If I was like this from the beginning, why would you want to try to fix things? Why get pregnant?"

Swallowing a sob, I twisted my hands together.

"You were my plan. My whole life. That contract was written before I even had a chance to consider anyone else. I didn't get a mastery or a job like Daphne did. I just waited for you to be ready."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, but that's not a reason to lie and manipulate me! Getting pregnant solely to trap me—"

"It wasn't only that!" I interrupted. "I've always wanted to be a mother and I was sick of putting my life on hold and just hoping that you got your head together! I waited until I was in my twenties for you to decide if you wanted to uphold the contract or not!"

"Fine," he snapped. "There was more than one purpose to it."

My hands settled on my hips. "Scorpius is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Do you not feel the same way?"

"I love my son. Don't twist this and act like I don't," Draco replied angrily. "But since we were not in a good place as a couple—"

Unable to hold back, I shouted, "Because of her! Weren't you happy over the past two years? We've been good together! When it was just the three of us, everything was fine. It's only when she's in the picture that you're not satisfied with our life!"

Again, he looked away, seemingly staring at the still-life painting on our wall. "The past two years, even if I didn't know exactly _what_ , I knew something was wrong. Something or someone was missing. The happiness you're talking about… it wasn't real for me."

"It was," I replied. "If you had stayed away from her, you would have had a chance at something real. _We_ would have had a chance at something real."

"No, we wouldn't! I'd always feel like there was something missing. I'm not willing to give up my job again. I'm not willing to try and be someone else—"

"But that's what you've been doing!" I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to face me. "Since the end of the war, you've been trying to be a new person — not a Malfoy—"

"Stop," he cut in, his voice angry again. "Since the war, I've become my own person. I don't let my surname define me, just like your sister or Pansy."

Since the beginning of this conversation, I'd been poking at his sore spots, but I didn't care. I kept at it, letting out a humourless chuckle.

"You've been trying so hard to be the opposite of what a Malfoy is supposed to be that you've lost yourself," I said, taunting him. "Instead of taking control and coming out on top — getting what you want — you've been afraid."

"I'm not doing this with you, " Draco replied. "You're turning things around on me. This was supposed to be about you and the things you've done."

"Like giving birth to our son? Trying to save our marriage by getting rid of your _whore_?"

His fists clenched at his sides and I knew he was already starting to forgive her, to fall in love with her all over again. His reaction was too strong for it to be as a result of anything else.

"Hermione was _not_ my whore!"

When he slipped up and used her first name, I saw red.

"Expensive trips, jewelry, books… There are payments other than Galleons—"

"I was in love with her, Astoria! Those things were given out of _love_. They weren't payment," he shouted. "And we already discussed this today! You never even spoke to me about Granger—"

"Like you would've listened—"

"And bringing a child into the world to repair a relationship isn't the right thing to do! Regardless of anything else!"

"Do you really think things would've been different if I'd spoken to you?" I asked, though it was more rhetorical than anything else. "Do you think you would've given her up?"

"I honestly don't know," Draco said, still glowering at me. "But it doesn't make what you did right."

"I never said it was right," I stated. "But, at the time, I wanted my husband to stop having an affair and I thought that you'd love a child more than you loved her. And if I were the one to give you the child, maybe you'd love me too."

Tangling his fingers in his hair, Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "So what else are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing."

"Excuse me if I don't fucking believe that."

I decided to be brave and approach him. When I settled my hand in the crook of his elbow, he opened his eyes and I could see how hurt he actually was.

"Draco, I'm not hiding anything else, and your father isn't either," I reassured. "The fertility potion was the last thing. I swear."

"My father knew about the potion?" he asked, and I nodded in response. My hand was still on his arm and I considered it a good thing that he hadn't pulled away yet.

"He knew after the fact," I explained, not wanting him to believe it had been Lucius' idea. "When I told you I was pregnant and you ran, I went to him and told him everything about the first year of our marriage."

"But Granger didn't know."

His words were a statement, not a question, and he finally shrugged my hand off. I watched as he refilled his wine glass, drank deeply, and moved to the window, gazing out into the fading light. The sun was setting, the sky glowing orange and red through our window panes.

Again, he murmured, "She didn't know. She thought... Fuck."

Since he'd been Obliviated, I'd watched him struggle with not knowing, with trying to find the bits and pieces of his old life. But now he knew why he couldn't remember them. With each new splinter of knowledge, he was trying to complete the connections in his mind and figure out what had really happened, piece together the fragments of who he used to be and the events that had shaped him.

I saw his shoulders stiffening, the tightness of his posture. One arm moved above his head and rested on the windowpane. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against his covered forearm. The knuckles of the hand holding the wine glass were turning white, the skin stretched over them blanching.

The lights in the house flashed, dimming and brightening as his magic struggled to settle. He stayed like that for a few minutes and I couldn't make myself look away.

"She didn't fucking know," he growled, quickly turning and throwing the wine glass at the opposite wall. "She didn't know that we weren't having sex regularly. I never told her. That's why she did this to me when she found out you were pregnant."

"Draco!" I yelled, seeing the rage rippling off him in waves. "You need to relax! Your magic—"

Again, the lights flashed, the energy in the room peaking and surging with his anger. I fed off his power, vanishing the shards of glass with my wand, cleaning up the mess he'd made over _her_ just like I always had. His eyes fell on me and I could see the hatred, clear as day. It had never been there before.

"I should take Scorpius and never let you see him again, you manipulative bitch," he said, moving closer and making me nervous. "You used him as a pawn. You thought you could control me with a child."

Taking a step back, I whispered, "I suppose that's true to an extent. I thought you'd stop—"

"And you wanted to do it again. Every time you've asked for another baby, it's been because someone mentioned her or because you thought I was getting close to her again."

"I did want another, though. It wasn't only because of her!"

Draco laughed, his emotions swaying wildly, the alcohol making him even more unsteady. "Astoria, have you learned nothing?"

"What do you mean?"

"A baby didn't fix this — didn't make me stop — the first time around," he replied. "Why the fuck did you think another one would keep me in line?"

Foolishly, I released the hold I'd been keeping on my emotions. Tears streamed down my face and I struggled to take in breaths.

"I don't know, Draco," I admitted, the words leaving my lips shakily. "But, honestly, I hoped that a family would make you as happy as it made me."

"I can't do this," he snarled. "I can't listen to your silly delusions."

"Delusions?"

Looking straight at me, he said, "We were never happy together. How can you pretend that you've found joy in this marriage?"

"I was happy until you decided to go back to work!"

As he threw his hands up in the air, he said the words I'd been dreading to hear. "Well, I wasn't! I didn't love you, Astoria! Not when we married, not after the Obliviation."

At that, I simply nodded, knowing he was hurt and looking to hurt me in return. I didn't need him to tell me he'd never loved me — I already knew.

But it still cut me down, made me bleed.

"Are you done?" I asked, wiping my eyes. "Can I go put our son to bed now?"

Walking past me, he moved to the stairs. "I'll put him to bed. Why don't you go and spend time conspiring with my father? Or dreaming up another way to coerce me into sex?"

I wanted to argue with him, but I was exhausted. In my mind, I said every hateful thing I could think of, told him that he'd ruined me, that he'd killed every single dream I'd ever had of a happy life.

And then I realised I'd likely done the same to him.

* * *

**Lucius — 26** **th** **June 2007**

* * *

As I stood on the balcony watching the sun appear over the treetops, I sipped yet another glass of firewhisky. I was fairly certain my blood alcohol level had been at a ridiculous level for the past two days, but I couldn't be bothered to care.

A week had passed, and we still hadn't heard from Draco. Honestly, I wasn't surprised, but I had held out hope that he would at least want to talk things through. If not with me, then with his mother…

But, as far as I knew, he hadn't even reached out to her yet. Astoria hadn't been coming around, and I was afraid he'd told her we weren't allowed to see Scorpius. It wouldn't surprise me if he did keep his son away from the Manor; it had been the scene of the worst moments of his life.

He was marked in the drawing room.

He was tortured in the dining room.

He was Obliviated in one of the bedrooms.

As I listed all these things out in my mind, I took another sip of firewhisky, trying to numb the guilt that somehow managed to break through the fog in my mind.

Of course, Narcissa wasn't speaking to me — wouldn't even look at me — and she'd decided to put on the dramatics, moving into one of the vacant bedrooms in the family wing. The elves made a production of emptying her closets and moving all of her things. She'd done the same thing during the war, but this time felt different.

This time, I had a true choice, and I actively decided to take everything away from Draco. I had chosen to risk my relationship with both my son and wife.

And I'd lost the gamble.

Glancing down towards the grounds, I saw the gardens in full bloom, the peacocks lazily stirring from their slumber. I envied their ability to sleep peacefully; I hadn't been able to sleep for more than two consecutive hours in over a week, even with the near fatal amount of firewhisky I'd consumed.

My eyes focused on the blood red roses that climbed the trellis beside the balcony. Much to her mother's horror, Narcissa had insisted on red roses as our wedding flowers. Druella's words — garish, gaudy, violent, bloody, lurid, Gryffindor — echoed through my mind, but then I heard Narcissa's.

Passion. Love. Romance. Warmth. Beauty. Strength.

Eventually, she'd shown her mother a book on floral messages, putting a stop to the argument. And I could still see Narcissa moving towards me, her hands full of classic red and white roses, her long white gown trailing behind her. I loved her, plain and simple. She looked perfect, her smile wide with lips painted the same colour red as the flowers.

Guilt flowed through me as I thought of our wedding day. I had promised to always put her first, to make sure she was always safe and happy and cared for.

I'd failed during the war, and I was failing now.

And Draco — I could hardly think about how my choices had affected his life without wanting to throw myself from the balcony. Every single time I made a decision that was supposed to keep my family together, to keep us all safe, it only ended up tearing us apart.

Grasping the tumbler in my hand more tightly, I tried to think of a way out of this situation. There had to be something I could do to fix things.

But my brain was clouded, unable to think analytically. Only the wisps of memory, of how I'd screwed up, came forth easily. The Cruciatus Curse was less painful than watching all of my mistakes play out in my mind's eye.

I had to refocus, to get sober and figure out how to fix things with Draco. I knew I wouldn't be able to fix things with Narcissa until I'd made a start on repairing my relationship with my son.

For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my elbows against the railing, my hands and the tumbler hanging over the edge.

And then I looked down and let it drop, the crystal shattering against the pavers, firewhisky splashing up and staining the surrounding area.

Pushing away from the railing, I stalked into the Manor, stripping my clothes off and sliding between the cold, empty sheets.

When I woke, I'd figure out how to fix this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Your comments and the dialogue between readers makes me so happy. I can't even express proper thanks. 🥰


	43. Hermione - 26th June 2007

Standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I was shaking. As I looked over every curl, every freckle, every inch of my dress, I felt sick.

The stress of being in the department with Draco and Blaise was getting to me.

After I'd left Falmouth yesterday, I hadn't gone back to the Ministry. Between the therapy appointment from hell and the revelation that Draco and Astoria had been trying to get pregnant, I couldn't cope, so I reverted to old habits. I holed myself up in my house, blocking the Floo and anyone who tried to Apparate in, and drowned my sorrows in a bottle of cheap wine. I wrote to Draco, even though Penelope had told me not to.

I had to let out everything I couldn't say to him in person.

For the first time in a long time, I thought of the night he'd told me about Astoria's pregnancy, the way he'd pleaded and promised me it had only been that one night.

It was all bullshit.

Today, I had to go back to the office and actually pack. I had to prepare for the move to the Department of Mysteries, for the next chapter in this godforsaken saga I called a life.

I took a pain potion, hoping to clear the pounding inside my head. Until that stopped, I wouldn't be able to Occlude properly and I needed to bury my emotions. I was also certain that Harry would pounce on me the second I walked through the door.

Closing my eyes, I started shoving things down one by one.

Draco first. He was easiest; I'd been hiding him away for years at this point. There was a hole in my heart — or my soul — where he fit perfectly, and I forced him into it.

And then my newfound angst about the fertility potion and its implications.

And then the verbal lashing I was likely going to get from Harry.

And finally Blaise — the way he'd acted in Penelope's office, the way he'd doubted my abilities and tried to keep me from going to Falmouth.

When I looked at myself in the mirror again, my eyes were blank, making me look almost as dead as I had right after I'd Obliviated Draco. Again, I pushed the thought down; there was no point in dwelling on it. I just had to get through the day and keep myself afloat until I saw Penelope again.

Emotional armour in place, I slipped on my heels and headed for the Floo, stopping only to grab my handbag. However, my journal was sitting on the table beside it, and I hesitated. Today, of all days, I thought I might need the outlet. If something went wrong and I couldn't contain my emotions…

I picked it up and tucked it into my bag, knowing that I shouldn't let myself become reliant on writing to Draco.

But he was the one who always knew me — knew what I needed — and writing to him was comfortable. Familiar. Everything was changing and I needed a constant.

With a sigh, I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed to the Ministry.

* * *

A gentle knock landed on my office door about an hour after I'd arrived. Before the knob rattled, the person outside said, "Hermione?"

Once again, I made sure my face was blank.

When the door swung open, Harry entered and tossed me a nod in greeting.

"You locked your house down," he said, stating the obvious.

"I did."

Closing the door behind him, he stepped closer, pulling one of the chairs in front of my desk out so he could sit. "Why?"

"Because I needed time," I answered, not willing to give a further explanation.

He swallowed, his Adam's Apple bobbing with the motion. "Blaise came to Grimmauld last night. He was pretty upset—"

I held up a hand. "Don't." Harry looked at me questioningly, so I continued. "I know he's upset, but I am too."

"You have every right to be," he replied, shocking me. "He's been… different lately. And to an extent, I get it, but he told Pansy about Sara. We had no idea."

Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the thought of Blaise telling Harry and Pansy that he'd essentially made a fool of me. I'd believed his lies when he said they were only friends.

Harry must have been able to sense what I was thinking because he reached across the desk, grabbing my hand.

"What else has been going on?"

"It's—Really, I don't want to put you in the middle of it."

He squeezed my fingers. "I'm asking you to. Tell me what's been going on, Hermione."

"But Pansy and Blaise… They're friends. And you're friends with him."

As I struggled, my emotions rose closer and closer to the surface. My chest tightened, and the room felt like it was closing in on me. Or maybe it wasn't the room. Maybe the tangled web of lies — of intertwined lives — was twisting around me, threatening to cut off my air supply.

But Harry anchored me; his fingers laced through mine and pulled me out of my own head.

"I told you, Hermione, I'm not going to let you drift away again," he said firmly. "When this whole Obliviation mess started, I told you that I was going to be there for you."

"But you don't have to be. I don't want to come between—"

"I do. Stop trying to push me away or protect me or whatever it is you're trying to do."

Once again, he knew me well enough to understand what I was doing and why I was acting this way.

A few long seconds passed, but then I took a deep breath. "Can we see if Ron's available? For lunch? I… I need help, I think."

"This is serious, then?"

"I'm seeing Penelope and journaling again, but I need you two to help me," I admitted, my armour cracking and peeling away. "I need my friends—"

He immediately stood and walked around my desk, pulling me up from my chair. His arms engulfed me, nearly swallowing me whole.

"We'll be there," he assured me, his hand running up and down my back. "I'm sure Ron will come with us today."

"He… said some things to me when Draco came back to work, and I'm afraid to really open up to him—"

"I know," Harry said. "But you know he loves you. He's always loved you and he just wants the best for you."

Nodding, I replied, "It's just hard to hear. And he was right. You know how he can be."

With a laugh, he released me and took a step back. "Everyone knows how Ron is when an 'I told you so' is due."

"Can we just talk when we're all together? I don't really want to go through it all twice."

Before Harry could answer, there was another knock at my door, and my heart sped up again. I must have looked panicked because Harry moved to the door, cracked it open, and said, "We'll just be another minute."

When he shut it and turned back to me, he mouthed _Malfoy_.

Relief washed over me, and I wasn't entirely sure what that meant. I smoothed my hands over my skirt and then ran them through my hair, mentally preparing myself for whatever Draco had come to say.

"Do you want me to stay?" Harry asked.

I shook my head. "No, I'll be okay. I have to see him tonight anyway. He's probably just here to confirm."

"He's holding two coffee cups."

Again, I felt my heart thump, and caffeine suddenly seemed like a terrible idea.

"Well, either way, I'll be fine," I said, trying to convince both Harry and myself. "Go get some work done. I'm assuming we'll be taking a rather long lunch."

"Just come to my office if you need me." He stood in front of the door, not moving. When I raised an eyebrow, he added, "Promise me, Hermione."

Rolling my eyes, I swore that I'd come to him if I needed him.

With a smile, he opened the door and stepped out. A second later, Draco stood in the threshold, looking at me cautiously.

"Can I come in?"

I gestured to the chair in front of my desk. "You're not a vampire. You don't need an invitation."

He looked confused, so I put him out of his misery.

"Sorry, Muggle pop culture reference," I said.

He set a takeaway coffee cup down on my desk and sat across from me. I could tell he was nervous.

"That's for you," he stated, though it was completely unnecessary.

Glancing down at the cup, I saw the label — cinnamon latte — and my throat tightened. He'd _remembered_. This wasn't something I'd shown him, so it had to have been like the gifts, like what Pansy had suggested. "Thank you."

After an awkward couple of seconds, I retook my seat and reached for the cup, hoping he wasn't vindictive enough to add Veritaserum to it.

Draco took a sip from his own cup and then set it down. "Granger, I talked to Astoria, and I feel like I need to explain something to you."

"You don't," I said quickly. "You don't owe me any explanations."

"I do," he said, his voice adamant. "I think I pieced something together on my own, and if I'm right, you need to know."

"Can't this wait until tonight? Don't you have things to wrap up for Belby's case?"

Frustrated, he pushed his fringe back. "I need to get this out now. I don't want to fight about it later."

I spun the coffee cup between my palms, unable to look up at him. "Okay."

He huffed. "This isn't fucking easy for me, you know. I feel like I owe you an apology, and I shouldn't."

My stomach was squirming, my insides writhing and twisting themselves into knots.

"I'm not expecting anything from you."

"Will you please look at me while I say this?"

Sitting up straight, I met his eyes, and I saw sincerity and confusion.

"When Belby said Astoria couldn't conceive..." His voice trailed off, and he huffed again. "We weren't trying to, Granger. I swear to you. Or at least I wasn't trying to."

He was stumbling over his words, but I'd heard them all before. He'd told me that he hadn't meant to get her pregnant, that it had been an accident.

"I don't know how to say this in a proper way, but she manipulated me," he continued. "According to her, it happened our anniversary—"

"I'm well aware. You told me all this two years ago, Draco."

"I'm certain I didn't," he replied. "If you'd known — understood — you wouldn't have—"

"Don't romanticise whatever it is you're thinking," I interrupted. "Two years ago, you came to me and told me she was pregnant, that you'd had sex on your anniversary because you felt obligated. That you couldn't say no because she was your _wife_."

His face fell.

"That's what you were going to say, right?"

"Astoria told me she took the fertility potion to ensure it. We hadn't… been intimate in months."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I didn't believe you two years ago, and I don't believe you now."

"Why would Astoria lie to me about that, Granger?" he asked, a tinge of anger colouring his voice. "And didn't you watch all my memories?"

"No. I didn't. When it came to Astoria, she told me to pull certain things forward, and I just removed them." Thinking back, I added, "There were a few she had me alter, but that wasn't one of them."

"It's in the trunk?"

I nodded. "If I took it, it's in the trunk."

"I want to see it tonight. I want _you_ to see it tonight."

"Why?" I asked. "What difference does it make?"

His eyes widened in shock. "It makes all the fucking difference!"

"Do not start an argument here, Draco," I warned, my voice low. "I've had enough of that, both with you and with Blaise."

Clenching his jaw, he looked away, likely trying to collect himself. I took another sip of my latte, simply because I didn't know what else to do.

"I want to see it," he stated, his tone making me reluctant to flat out refuse.

They were his memories, after all.

"We'll get there. I was going to show you my birthday tonight. We went away."

"To Mykonos." When he looked up at me again, he saw my confusion. "I left you a note in one of the books I found."

"Have you found the ones in yours?"

"What?"

I bit my lip. I hadn't thought this through. "You said you read the books I gave you. There are notes — likely charmed to be invisible — in all of them."

"No, I had no idea."

While I couldn't be sure, I thought I saw a twinkle in his eye, as if he were excited to look for them now.

"Just cast a _Revelio_."

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Same time tonight?"

"That's fine with me," I replied. "I'm just going to be packing up in here today. I'm in the Department of Mysteries effective Monday."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be brilliant, Granger."

Smiling weakly, I thanked him and he stood to leave. Before he stepped out the door, he hesitated.

"Are you and Blaise…?"

I waited for him to finish his sentence, but he never did.

"We're… I don't really know. It's complicated."

"Right. Complicated. I get that."

"And you and Astoria?" I asked, remembering that he'd gone to his — their — house on Sunday night.

Looking over his shoulder, he said, "Also complicated, but we're… I'm going to find a way to divorce her."

He'd said it so many times before and I wanted to throw it in his face. Every inch of me was bruised or scraped raw at the moment, and I wanted to lash out.

But I held back.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry it didn't work out. I really did want you to be happy. I wouldn't have — I suppose it doesn't matter."

"No, it really doesn't."

And, with that, he left my office.

* * *

Over lunch, I spilled my guts to Harry and Ron, relaying everything that had been going on with Blaise and Draco. They both listened, only interrupting or interjecting occasionally.

"I told you that another snake would be no good for you," Ron grumbled once I'd finished my story.

My cheeks were wet with tears and my eyes felt dry, prickling and burning.

"I don't really think it has anything to do with his school house." I dabbed at my face with a napkin. "I think it has more to do with the fact that I started a relationship with someone who was too close to the whole situation."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Yeah, well, he lied to you for his own gain. You said he told you he didn't tell you about Sara because it would've made you skittish about a relationship with him and therefore harder for him to get into your knickers."

Throwing the napkin at him, I replied, "You're a pig. I'll have you know he didn't get all the way into my knickers for three whole months."

"Alright, enough about sex," Harry said. "Can we discuss what you're going to do with Blaise now?"

I sighed. "I don't know."

"I say give him the boot. Start over in the Department of Mysteries and forget that Malfoy and Zabini even exist," Ron stated, shaking his head. "They've done nothing but cause you trouble for years."

"But when things are good, we just… we fit. It works," I tried to explain. "If Draco hadn't come back—"

"But he did," Harry interrupted. "And now Blaise has shown his true colours. And he lied to you, even more than Malfoy did, I'd wager."

As hard as it was to hear, I knew Harry was right. Blaise had lied. And while he hadn't cheated, it felt like he had. He had told Sara my secrets, broken my trust, and his possessive behaviour was making me resent him.

"You don't think I should try to fix things?" I asked quietly.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "What, exactly, do you think _you_ need to fix?"

"We haven't really talked things through, I suppose. Though it seems like Blaise is reluctant to do so, unless it's to point out how I've been different since Draco's returned."

Harry laid a hand over mine. "Hermione, you haven't been all that different. Yes, I'm sure you've been hiding some emotions, but you've been doing your job. If he's angry with you for helping Malfoy on a case, then that's just out of line."

"He didn't want me spending time with him." Turning my hand over, I entwined my fingers with Harry's. "But I can't really blame him for that, can I?"

"Honestly, I probably would've acted the same as Blaise, but that doesn't make it right," Ron answered. "He should've been checking in with you every day, Hermione, but not in a possessive way."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked at Ron and nodded.

"Well, he should've been supportive, not jealous and judgmental," Ron continued. "He shouldn't have gotten angry with you or turned things into a one-sided pissing contest."

I was honestly shocked by Ron's honest candor.

"And you heard Luna. You guys were trying to get your auras to mesh. Whatever that means," he said with a smile. "They didn't just fit together."

"I wonder what she'd see if I was with Draco," I mused aloud.

Harry squeezed my hand. "Don't go there, Hermione. I'm begging you."

"I'm not planning on it, Harry. I still don't know what to do about Blaise." My head and my heart were both conflicted, and I kept talking it through. "I thought things could work with him, but now that I've seen this other side of him, I'm not so sure."

"Do you think he'll change? Or will he always throw Malfoy in your face?" Ron asked.

Pulling my hand away from Harry, I ran it through my hair. "I don't know. He's reminded me of how I was before a lot. But also… He was there when no one else was."

"That doesn't mean you have to marry the bloke, Hermione," Ron said. "For Godric's sake, based on what you've said today, I think he made sure he was there for you after the fact."

Deep in the recesses of my mind, I'd been thinking the same thing. He'd said that he'd waited a lot longer than I realised, and I was starting to wonder what that statement actually meant. Until I'd started sleeping with Draco, Blaise and I had been cordial. He'd occasionally say something flirtatious or sidle up to me at the Leaky, but overall, he and I weren't close.

But then he'd started being there for me. Since he was the only one who knew about the affair, I'd opened up to him and let him see me at my worst.

"Harry? Did you get the same feeling?"

Harry took his glasses off and set them on the table before pressing his fingertips against his eyes.

"I may have somehow missed that you and Malfoy had something going on," he began, his voice showing some of the strain he was likely feeling. "But I think Blaise has been interested in you as long as he's worked in the DMLE."

"That's not possible."

Picking his glasses up, he cleaned them with his t-shirt before slipping them back on. "I think it is. Maybe not the whole time, but I've noticed him watching you. At my wedding he spent most of the night sitting beside Malfoy and looking in your direction."

"That could have been because Draco was, though."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. But there were other times, as well."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" I asked.

"Because you seemed like you were doing well when you were with him," he replied, looking me in the eyes. "You seemed happy again. And you told me that he had been a good friend to you. I was hoping that it would work out."

Swallowing my reservations, I said, "I'm still struggling with his relationship with Sara and the things he said on the morning of Draco's wedding."

"What you saw in the memories?" Ron questioned.

I nodded.

Harry looked concerned. "And do you think you'll see more of him in the memories you're planning to show Malfoy?"

Thinking back, I replied, "Definitely. The further I get into things with Draco, the more he'll be around. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a bit of him in every memory."

"If you're not sure what you want to do, look for him," Ron suggested, though his tone clearly showed he no longer cared for Blaise. "You need to look at how he behaved in a new light, I think."

"But then won't I just be looking for trouble?"

He shrugged. "I just think it'll drive you mental if you don't figure out exactly when this all started for him."

"You're probably right," I replied.

Smiling at me, Ron said, "Always the tone of surprise."

The simple phrase brought me back to when things were easier, when I thought I knew exactly how my life would turn out. Even if there was a war going on, I thought Ron and I would end up together at the end.

And we had, for a little while.

Harry laughed. "Well, it's not often that you're right, so it _is_ surprising."

"Fuck off," Ron said good-naturedly. Turning to me, he continued, "When are you meeting Malfoy again?"

"Tonight. He's coming to mine around six."

They exchanged a look. "Should we plan to see you after?"

Shaking my head, I said, "No, it's fine. The memories… They don't really bother me. I've been living with them the whole time. It's just this thing with Blaise and being stuck between them every single day."

"Well, you should call if you need us," Harry said. "I know you say it doesn't bother you, but it can't be easy, either."

"I promise that I will Floo directly to yours if I'm upset," I placated, even though I had no intentions of doing that. They both narrowed their eyes at me, making me laugh. "Seriously, I will. Now, why don't you both catch me up on the kids?"

* * *

Later that evening, I was sitting at my table, the Pensieve in front of me. I thought back to Mykonos, to the best birthday I'd ever had, and tried to figure out exactly which scenes I was going to show Draco.

Looking at the clock, I knew I had half an hour or so before he arrived, so I rifled through the letters he'd written me, looking for the one he'd left on my pillow when we got back from Mykonos. Even though they were all over two years old at this point, it looked like he had just written them yesterday; I'd cast a charm on them to preserve every word long before I'd known they would be some of the only ties I had to him.

As I read his words, I could feel the tears pricking my eyes and my throat tightening around a suppressed sob. I had cried the first time I read this one, as well.

Every girl dreams of receiving love letters, of having someone so in love with her that they can't resist spilling their feelings out across the parchment. I was different, though; I wanted it more than most. Words meant the world to me, and just about everyone knew that. I wanted the big confessions of love, the sweet notes hidden away for me to find, and Draco had given them to me.

What I hadn't imagined, though, was that those words would come from a man who was married to another woman. I hadn't ever anticipated doubting the words of the man who loved me because I had to share him with someone else.

I banded the remaining letters together, keeping the Mykonos one out of the stack in case he wanted to see it.

As I imagined the villa and the sea, the details started coming back to me, one by one. Draco had stayed out of the sun — of course he had — and I had soaked it up every bit of it. We'd only gone out to get a couple of meals, preferring to spend our weekend away alone in the villa he'd rented for an ungodly sum of money.

Even when we'd been in the Muggle world and were free to be ourselves, we'd chosen to hide away and just enjoy each other's company, just like at home.

And then I remembered the sex, and I could feel my blood already starting to heat.

I had to calm myself before we actually watched the memories together.

My anxiety grew with each passing minute. For whatever reason, I'd put on one of the rings I'd kept from my mother's collection that morning, and I caught myself spinning it, twisting it around my finger, as I imagined what Draco's response to this weekend trip to Mykonos would be. I knew what happened at the end — and it was something significant. I had to show him. I couldn't choose not to.

All of the worst case scenarios were flooding my mind, each more unlikely than the rest, but I couldn't stop them.

By the time the Floo activated, I was sure I'd chewed a hole in my cheek and my hair probably looked like I'd been slaving over a cauldron. I'd touched it so many times, twisting it and likely agitating my curls.

Draco stepped through and his eyes scrutinised me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, though it seemed more reflexive than planned.

I cleared my throat, pushing down the feelings and the nerves, and all my doubts. I could do this. This — telling him the truth and showing him the past — had to be easier than keeping the secret.

"Yes, I'm fine."

The lie tumbled from my lips easily.

Stepping closer, he said, "You don't really look fine, Granger. Did something happen today?"

"No, I'm fine," I repeated. "I'm just — I was thinking about what to show you. And I found a letter you wrote me that goes with this memory, too."

Draco sighed. "That bad?"

"The memories aren't easy. We hurt each other. A lot."

"Alright," he conceded. "You said we're going to see your birthday in Mykonos?"

I nodded. "Yes. September 2004." Gesturing towards the letter, I asked, "Do you want to read that after?"

"Fine with me. You're in charge, Granger."

"Okay. I don't think you need any background for this. Obviously we kept at it after I tried to break things off."

Holding my wand to my temple, I thought of Mykonos — of the Saturday we'd spent devouring each other, of the Sunday night before we left — and pulled the memories loose, setting them in the Pensieve. I looked down and saw the villa through the silver swirls.

My eyes shifted back to Draco. He was watching me closely, likely deducing that I really wasn't okay, but he didn't question me again.

"Ready when you are," I said, my voice quieter than normal.

Without hesitation, he plunged his hand into my thoughts and I followed his lead.

* * *

When we fell into the Pensieve, we landed in the middle of a DMLE conference room. Harry was leading a meeting and looking exhausted.

Meanwhile, memory Hermione and memory Draco were seated opposite each other, occasionally stealing glances. My eyes jumped to Blaise, seated beside memory Draco, and I realised his eyes kept flicking up to memory Hermione, watching her closely.

Present Draco zeroed in on the same thing. "You never noticed the way he looked at you, Granger?"

I gestured to memory Hermione. "Does it look like she's paying attention to anyone but you?"

Shrugging, he turned back to the scene around us.

_"I think that's all," Harry said, his eyes scanning everyone seated at the table. "Blaise, come see me and we'll talk about that case in Kent in further detail."_

At Harry's dismissal, most people stood from the table, stretching and heading for the exit. Memory Hermione stayed seated, shuffling papers around and letting everyone else leave.

_"Granger," memory Draco called, drawing her full attention. And Blaise's. "Do you have a few minutes? I need someone to double check the figures on the report from last week."_

_She nodded. "Of course. Do you want to go over it here or in my office?"_

_"Your office is fine."_

As I watched Blaise, I noticed the way his fists tightened at his side. When memory Draco made it to the door, Blaise grabbed his arm, trying to tug him along

_"Malfoy," he said, his voice harsh. "Didn't you hear? We need to go to Potter's office."_

_Pulling away, memory Draco replied, "Potter asked for you. I'll catch up after Granger and I go over these—"_

_"Figures, " Blaise interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure they're extremely urgent."_

A blush burned memory Hermione's cheeks. She stood, tugging at the hem of her skirt self-consciously. Blaise exited the conference room and she slapped memory Draco's arm.

_"For the love of Godric," she hissed. "He knows what's going on, Draco. Do you really need to make flimsy excuses? Wouldn't it be easier to just knock on my door?"_

"Jealous wanker," present Draco mumbled. "Trying to cockblock."

I glared at present Draco, silencing him.

_With a smirk, memory Draco said, "But now we have a reason to spend some time in your office with the door shut. I've been trying to figure out what kind of knickers you're wearing under that tight skirt."_

_"Malfoy, we're not going there in the office today."_

_While memory Draco looked disappointed, he simply shrugged. "Let me grab that report from my desk. I have a new book for you, as well."_

Present Draco and I were forced to follow memory Hermione into her office. With a coy smirk she closed the door behind her and hiked her skirt up, sliding a pair of lacy blue knickers down her legs and tucking them into her pocket. She straightened herself out before memory Draco came through the door.

Much to my surprise, present Draco laughed. "Who knew you'd go around the office bare?"

"I did a lot of things I wouldn't normally do when it came to you," l answered, keeping my eyes on the memory. "You changed me a lot."

_"Here," memory Draco said, setting a delicate old book on the desk._

Memory Hermione was already in her chair and reached for it.

_"'There's a note on the front cover," he stared, drawing a scandalized look from her._

_"Draco, you did NOT write in a book this old—"_

Leaning over the desk, he silenced her with a kiss.

_"I did. Luckily, we have magic and can make anything invisible," memory Draco teased. "Go on. Open it, Granger."_

Opening the cover, memory Hermione's eyes quickly skimmed his words, widening.

_"Mykonos?" she breathed. "For the whole weekend?"_

_Memory Draco nodded. "The whole weekend. Just you and me, clothing entirely optional."_

_I watched as her face morphed from excited to confused. "But how? An afternoon or single night is one thing—"_

_Again, he kissed her into silence before pulling back and grinning. "It's your birthday. I've been getting this set up for weeks."_

_"No flowers this year?" It clicked into place. "You're the one who's been sending the flowers every year?"_

_"Haven't I told you?" memory Draco began. "I've always wanted this. Of course I'm the one who's been sending flowers. I love seeing your face light up when you get them."_

Present Draco shifted uncomfortably beside me; his own words making him squirm.

_"But we shouldn't," memory Hermione said. "Really, we shouldn't even think about doing this."_

_Memory Draco met her eyes. "I know that, but I want to anyway. I want to every day."_

_"Well, every day isn't exactly an option," she responded. "But I suppose it would be okay just this once._

_"Definitely. Just this once. One weekend away together for your birthday," memory Draco answered. "It'll be fun."_

_"I guess I'd better go shopping after work," she said, her voice dropping into a purr. "I've got some swimwear to buy."_

_With a groan, memory Draco headed for the door. "Two more days and then you're all mine."_

_"Wait," memory Hermione called. "I have something for you, too."_

_She stood and walked around the desk, meeting him in front of the closed door. Looking down at her, memory Draco said, "Well? What is it, Granger?"_

_Smirking, she reached into her skirt pocket, retrieving the knickers. "No need to think about it anymore," she teased. "You can have these, and now you'll know I'm not wearing any."_

Beside me, I heard present Draco shifting and clearing his throat. He was reacting more strongly than he had before, and we weren't even watching anything sexual yet. My body was in tune with his, even though we hadn't had sex in years.

_"You're going to kill me," memory Draco said, taking the scrap of blue lace from her hand. "I'm going to be doing depraved things with these tonight while I'm imagining you wearing them."_

_"Well, I hope you have fun," she said, pulling away and opening the door before he could start anything. "I'll have those figures back to you before the end of the day on Friday."_

_"Thanks, Granger," memory Draco replied. "I'm glad I won't be taking up your whole weekend."_

With that, he quickly slid his hand under the hem of her skirt and groped her bare arse on his way out.

When the scene resumed, we found ourselves at a seaside villa, the blue of the Mediteranean Sea forming a beautiful background.

Memory Hermione was on the pool deck, laying facedown on a sun lounger wearing nothing but a very tiny string bikini bottom that left nothing to the imagination.

''Fuck, Granger," present Draco said. "Why didn't you warn me?"

I shrugged. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked in the other memories."

_"You're going to get a sunburn and then sex will be very uncomfortable," memory Draco said, walking out of the villa carrying two flutes of champagne. He was shirtless and retreated to the shade as soon as he'd handed one to her._

_"I'm not a pale person," she replied. "I get tan, not burnt."_

_"Whatever you say," memory Draco said. "Are you planning on swimming at all?_

_Memory Hermione leaned up on her elbows. "If l do, are you going to join me?"_

_"I'm going in, with or without you. That"—he gestured to the infinity pool that looked like it merged with the sea—"is the reason I chose this place. I thought you and I could put it to good use."_

As he cast a sunblocking charm over himself, he smirked at her. She watched him hungrily as he pulled his swim trunks off before walking to the edge of the pool and into the water.

_When he was submerged to the waist, he paused and looked over at her. "Well? Are you going to join me?"_

She rose, raising her arms above her head and stretching

Both memory and present Draco drank her in, breasts on full display. I looked away, honestly surprised that I'd been so bold, open, and free. Before moving forward, she slowly untied her bikini bottoms and let them fall to the ground.

"Morgana," present Draco breathed. "No wonder I couldn't stay away from you."

I felt very exposed and self-conscious, even though I'd clearly had no issue being naked in front of him before and he'd seen it since — in the other memories.

_"You're a goddess," memory Draco said, his eyes locked on memory Hermione as she walked. "Fuck, get over here so I can worship you properly._

He met her at the edge and wrapped his hands around her calves. Memory Hermione lifted one of her feet and dipped her toes in the water, prompting him to release her and step back.

As gracefully as possible, she wandlessly summoned a towel, spread it out, and lowered herself to sit on the ledge.

_"Don't fucking move," memory Draco said. And then he reconsidered and started pressing his hands against her inner thighs. "Actually, I take that back. Spread your legs for me."_

My breath hitched and my heart sped up, remembering how intense this was about to get.

Licking his lips, memory Draco watched as memory Hermione parted her thighs, putting herself on display for him. She met his gaze, his challenge, and didn't move.

But he did.

Lowering himself, he brought his face level with her knee and pressed his lips against her inner thigh. Memory Hermione looked down, watching him work his way up, biting and sucking on her skin. She tangled her fingers in his hair, soaking up his attention.

Before he reached her centre, he stopped and switched to the opposite side, making her whine in dissatisfaction.

_"Patience, goddess," memory Draco murmured between kisses, his tongue flicking out against her skin. "Good things come to those who wait."_

He dipped one of his hands in the water and then trailed it up her abdomen, eventually reaching her breast. His fingers lightly pinched her nipple, rolling and teasing, as his mouth slowly sucked a bruise into her thigh.

Memory Hermione's breathing started to accelerate, her inhales growing sharper and shorter. She tugged at his hair, trying to draw his mouth over to her cunt.

_"Are you getting wet for me?"_

I saw memory Draco tug on her nipple, and she moaned.

_"You know I am." Her hips shifted closer to the edge of the pool, drawing a smile from him. "I need you."_

"Can we stop for a minute?" present Draco asked, red in the face. "This feels… different than the others."

"It kind of is," I replied, pausing the scene around us just as memory Draco had pulled memory Hermione's legs over his shoulders. "It's not a hurried tryst or jealousy-filled. This is when things really started to get out of control. It was light and fun, and then… Well, this weekend changed things."

"How?" he asked. "Why is this different?"

"It's more than a single night, and we talk. A lot. Would you prefer to see the conversations instead?"

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. "No, this — I want to see this particular scene play out."

"I think this one is… It's important," I ineloquently explained.

"Okay," present Draco said. "Well, let's keep going."

Waving my hand, I let the memory resume.

_"Lie back, Granger," memory Draco said, pressing on her chest and summoning a pillow from one of the loungers. She reached for the pillow and he shook his head. "Get another if you want it for your head."_

Showing off, she conjured one from thin air and reclined, tucking it under her head. Memory Draco maneuvered the pillow under her hips, raising her legs even higher. Without warning, he lowered his mouth down and sucked hard, drawing her swollen clit into his mouth.

_"Oh my god," memory Hermione screamed, her hands moving back to his hair, holding him in place as she started to move against his mouth._

_"Greedy," memory Draco scolded, drawing back for a moment. "What did I say?"_

_"I don't want to wait," she whined. "Fuck, Malfoy, your tongue—"_

We watched as he let go of one of her thighs and moved his fingers to her cunt, teasing her entrance with one fingertip and then two.

_"It seems like you might want more than my tongue," he taunted, slipping his index finger in and crooking it, eliciting another cry from memory Hermione. "How's that, goddess?"_

Now, her hips were moving in time with his hand.

_"I love it," she said breathily, tilting herself up so she could watch him. "Fuck, keep your finger right there!"_

_With a smirk, he replied, "Your mouth is positively filthy today. I love it."_

And then his mouth — his talented, filthy, fucking obnoxious mouth — descended again, his lips sucking and tongue teasing her nerves, making them fire and sing until memory Hermione was flushed and shaking, her eyes locked on the platinum head between her legs.

Once she'd stilled and laid back, memory Draco's ministrations slowed, and I could see the way he brought her down, his finger slowly sliding out and his tongue replacing it, making sure he tasted every last bit of her.

_"Come back to me," he teased, pinching her arse. "Or did I find a way to finally short-circuit your brain?"_

Memory Hermione grabbed the pillow under her hips and tugged it free, smacking him over the head with it.

_"Fuck off."_

Laughing, memory Draco positioned her thighs around his torso and grabbed her waist, gently pulling her up. When she looked down at him, she smiled and looped her arms around his neck, letting him pull her down into the pool.

As she slid down his body, the heat reignited, his hands dropping to her arse and holding her centre level with his cock. Their eyes locked as he walked her down into deeper water.

_"Thanks for this," memory Hermione said quietly. "I've never—I never imagined getting to go somewhere… Nevermind."_

_"Happy Birthday," he replied, pressing her against the smooth wall of the pool. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go, Granger."_

Based on her reaction, memory Draco's cock had slipped inside of her. His hands weaved into her curls and he kissed her like he'd never kissed her before. It was desperate and filled with need.

With love.

Her arms were around his neck, holding him close, and their movements were synchronised. As their pace sped up, memory Hermione broke the kiss and let out a sigh of pleasure.

Memory Draco's lips travelled across her jaw to the delicate skin of her neck, his tongue playing at her pulsepoint.

_"I can still smell your perfume," he groaned. "Fuck, everything about you makes me crazy. Every single one of my senses—"_

_"Harder," she begged. "I need more."_

Knowing the limitations of the water, memory Draco gripped her tighter and Apparated back to the shaded area of the pool deck, shocking her and making her laugh before sitting her atop the outdoor dining table.

_"No," memory Hermione said when he started to move. "I think it's your turn to lie back."_

Slipping out of her, he moved to a lounger and raised an eyebrow when she didn't follow. Her eyes were roaming his body, taking in the way his abs and legs looked while wet and glistening in the Mykonos afternoon sun.

She bit her lip and slid off the table, walking over and kneeling between his thighs on the lounge chair.

Leaning forward, she placed a trail of kisses on his stomach, moving slowly towards the swollen head of his cock. When she reached it, she teased him with her tongue and he involuntarily jerked up.

_"Fuck, sorry," he hissed._

_With a laugh, she said, "Good things come to those who wait."_

"Are you—Is she going to…" present Draco trailed off.

Feeling my cheeks heating, I nodded, unable to answer him.

I watched as memory Hermione gently teased the length of memory Draco's cock, placing wet, open-mouth kisses along his shaft. When she took his head all the way into her mouth, he hissed. Her lips slid down, engulfing nearly half of him before sliding back up slowly and swirling her tongue around.

He moaned as she quickly took him deeper, his head hitting the back of her throat. I could hear her hums of pleasure when he started to move his hips, helping her to set a rhythm, and I knew present Draco could, too.

Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, she moved it in tandem with her mouth, his shallow, panting breaths spurring her on. Memory Draco pulled her curls back from her face so he could watch her, and the hungry look in his eyes made me squeeze my thighs together.

I couldn't even imagine what it was doing to present Draco.

Right now, I could remember how this moment had made me feel. I was focused on pleasing him, but my body was winding tighter and tighter, wanting to be filled by him again, getting more and more desperate to come. His hands in my hair, the scent of his skin, the sounds he made… Every bit of his attention was focused on me, what I was doing to him, how I was making him feel. The way he treated me — like I was the only woman in the world — had given me confidence over the past three months. His desire lit mine, made me burn for him in a way I'd never felt before.

_"So good. Fuck, Granger, you've been holding back," memory Draco praised._

She laughed and sputtered.

_"I can't exactly take my time most days," memory Hermione said, wiping her mouth. "Do you want me to continue—"_

Memory Draco grabbed her arm and tugged her so she was sitting astride him, his free hand quickly snaking between her legs to test her.

_"You're fucking soaked," he groaned._

_Flushing slightly, she said, "I like giving—"_

Silencing her with a kiss, memory Draco guided himself into her body, snapping his hips to make sure he filled her all the way.

Memory Hermione ground against him, keeping her movements slow and steady, her slit in contact with his pubic bone at this angle.

_"Already?" memory Draco asked. She nodded, one of her hands moving to her breast and squeezing. "Let me help you."_

Leaning forward, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and she started riding him harder, bouncing more than she had been.

I glanced over at present Draco. His eyes were locked on the scene and his face was red, his fists clenching at his sides.

Memory Draco's hands were squeezing bruises into memory Hermione's hips, her skin blanching from the pressure he was putting on it. When she screamed, he released her nipple and watched her face as she came, slowly rocking her against his body, prolonging her pleasure.

_"Fucking goddess," he praised. "You're perfection. I want you to come for me like that over and over."_

_She kissed him sweetly, capturing his bottom lip between hers and tugging on it as she pulled back. "I can't possibly. My legs are already shaky."_

_"Do you want to move to the bedroom? More space to move around in that bed."_

Memory Draco was still holding her tightly, not allowing her to move, his eyes roaming over her rumpled hair and sunkissed skin.

_"Yeah," memory Hermione replied breathily as he rocked her a bit harder. "Fuck, yes, let's keep going."_

_He grinned. "Hang on."_

Again, he Apparated them, somehow managing to land on the bed, and we were there with them. They both laughed and she slapped at his chest.

_"One of these days, you're going to splinch us, Malfoy."_

Laying back and settling his head against the pillowcase, he rolled his hips up, driving deeper.

_"Never," memory Draco said, his hands roaming her body. "I could never forget a single centimetre of you."_

Memory Hermione's head tipped back on a moan and his hand slid down her stomach, finding its way to her clit and rubbing. She started moving faster, chasing her release, and memory Draco's eyes were glued to her. I saw the strain in his jaw and knew he was close to coming, holding back to wait for her.

_"Come on, Granger." His words came through gritted teeth. "I can feel your cunt tightening. Let go for me."_

She leaned back further, one hand bracing on his thigh and the other in her hair.

_"You're killing me," he continued. "You have no fucking idea how you look right now. I could stare at you like this forever. Move a little faster for me."_

She sped up, making her tits bounce a bit more, her muscles flex more rapidly.

Even I could admit that I had looked fucking amazing on top of him like that.

Memory Draco's fingers pressed harder and, finally, memory Hermione cried out, her movements becoming less fluid and more jerky as her climax surged through her.

_"Thank the gods," he groaned, thrusting up twice more before spilling into her._

He pulled her against his chest and held her as their breathing steadied, his hands smoothing over her back and her curls, her lips kissing along his throat. I started to drown, remembering what it felt like to be where memory Hermione was — to feel the warmth of Draco's skin pressed against mine, the tingles of happiness and magic coursing through us, somehow shared.

I could remember how it felt when he murmured against my ear, his warm breath ghosting over my skin as he praised me and told me how much he loved being with me. In my mind, I could hear him telling me that he loved me — even if he hadn't at this point.

"Granger?" present Draco began, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked over at him and his eyes were filled with fire. "Why the fuck would you give that up?"

My stomach dropped, the flutters of arousal I'd been feeling instantly stilling and the warmth inside my chest cooling significantly. I could feel my mouth gaping, but no words came out.

"Do you — Is it like that for you with everyone?" present Draco asked. "Is that kind of connection just normal?"

"No!"

It came out as a squeak — a terrified, abrupt little sound.

"Then why?"

One of my hands settled at the base of my throat. I was choking up and I could feel tears threatening.

"Can we just finish this? You're going to be even more upset, and I just… I can't fight with you. Not after just watching that," I managed, hoping he didn't ask for further explanation.

"Fine," he snapped in frustration. "Can't wait to go through more of this torture."

I felt my jaw clench. I wanted to remind him that I'd warned him that these memories weren't easy to live with, but I held back.

Eventually, memory Hermione rolled off of memory Draco, saying she needed a shower, and the scene changed again. We were brought back to the pool deck, and the sun was setting over the sea.

She was standing there in a white dress, looking out at the boats sailing away, and memory Draco was watching her from the entrance to the house. Her curls were cascading down her back and, when she turned, he could see her face. There was a rosy glow to her cheeks and she was smiling brightly.

I glanced over at present Draco, and he was watching her too.

Memory Draco walked over and joined her, caging her between the patio railing and his arms. Her back was to his chest and they were mostly silent.

However, after a few minutes, he broke the silence.

_"You know I'm in love with you, right?"_

I saw memory Hermione stiffen, and present Draco said, "Fuck."

_"This can't go on forever, Draco," memory Hermione replied, not unkindly. "We can't just pretend you're not married."_

_He wrapped his arms around her waist. "But I mean it. I am in love with you. I thought I was before, but now… I know for sure."_

_Trying to squirm away, memory Hermione said, "Eventually, Astoria will pick up on things and she'll want you to be around more. Someday, you're going to leave. I'm not — This can't be anything real. Not for me."_

_"But it's already real," memory Draco insisted, holding her tighter. "I can feel it. I can see it in the way you look at me."_

_Memory Hermione had tears in her eyes, though he couldn't see them. "It's not. It's a secret and a few nights spent away."_

_"Do you know what I thought when I saw you standing here?"_

She shook her head because she was too choked up to speak.

_"I felt my heart stop, just for a second, and I thought, 'Wow, I never even dreamed this would happen. Things are getting good now. A job and a woman I love… This moment was worth every bit of pain.' So let me say it, Hermione. I'm in love with you. I don't care that you don't feel the same. I need you to know that this is more than just some physical thing or act of rebellion for me."_

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw present Draco's hands move to his face, covering his eyes. I felt goosebumps break out over my skin, my body reacting to his pain and dreading the argument that would soon explode.

_"Okay," memory Hermione breathed, leaning back against him and letting him hold her. "I know — I think I knew before you told me."_

_"Good," he said, squeezing her and resting his chin on her head. "That's all that matters to me. It doesn't matter how it ends — I just needed you to know what you mean to me."_

And the memory ended, throwing us back into my house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I intend to keep up with comments this week since I'm not working.
> 
> Just know that even if I don't answer, I am reading and loving every response I get. 💜


	44. Draco, 26th-27th June 2007

As my feet settled on the floor in Granger’s house, my head spun.

Pressing my fingers into my eyes, I took deep breaths, avoiding looking at her. After what we’d just seen, I needed a few seconds to process, and I was sure she did, too. A few things I’d said were sticking in my mind, making my stomach churn.

_ I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, Granger. _

_ I could never forget a single centimetre of you. _

_ It doesn’t matter how it ends — I just needed you to know what you mean to me. _

The more I thought, the angrier I became. At my sides, my hands curled into fists, my fingernails biting into the skin of my palms. 

I hated her.

I hated her so fucking much.

But, more than I hated her, I hated myself.

The choices I’d made, the way I’d obviously changed her… She was so different from the Granger in the memories.

“Draco?” 

In a controlled, even tone, I said, “I can’t talk to you right now.”

She didn’t answer.

Once I opened my eyes, I saw that she’d moved to her sofa, curling up as small as possible on one side. There were tears in her eyes and they made me even angrier at myself.

Yes, this was hard for me but, if she loved me the way she said she did, it was just as difficult for her.

I looked away.

“I’ll—We can talk on Thursday,” I told her. “I’m… Fuck, I don’t know what I am.”

“It’s fine, Draco,” she replied. “As much as you might hate me right now, just know that I hate myself even more. I understand.”

Her words mirrored my thoughts and floored me.

Taking a deep breath, I looked over at her once more. “Listen, Granger. That was a lot to take in. Did you hear what I said? That I’d never forget a centimetre of you? That I didn’t care how things ended as long as you knew how I felt?”

Her eyes widened fractionally. “Draco, no, you’re looking at things with a bias. I didn’t — I would never take that literally.”

“Can we talk about Astoria? The pregnancy?” I asked, changing the subject. “Why don’t you believe that I only slept with her that one time?”

Hermione wiped at her eyes. “Because there’s no way—”

“Fertility potion, Granger.”

“Yes, of course I understand that,” she began, her voice cracking. “But you slept with her. And I know it’s ridiculous that I care about it since I was the other woman and had no claim over you, but you promised me you wouldn’t. You told me you were trying to find a way to break the contract and get a divorce—”

“I was?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really know, Draco. I never saw any proof of it, so it felt like a lie.”

“And you weren’t in love with me in Greece?”

Again, she shrugged. “I didn’t think I was at the time.”

“And now?” I asked, desperate to know, even if it made no difference.

“Now I think I loved you all along,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why else would I have made myself miserable for a year?”

“What do you mean?” 

Letting out a sigh, she said, “It’s not important.”

“Granger—”

“You said you wanted to talk on Thursday. Let’s talk then.”

Even though she’d interrupted me, she sounded resigned, like she didn’t have the heart to keep having this discussion.

"Fine. We'll talk then," I conceded. "But I want to read the letter I wrote to you now."

Shrugging, she gestured for me to continue. "Go ahead, if you really want to. I just think you're going to get angry all over again if you do."

"Well, I'm still angry, so it's no big deal."

Moving back to the dining table, I picked up the folded piece of parchment she'd tried to give to me before we went into the Pensieve. As I started to unfold it, my heart sped up. She'd offered to let me look at these kinds of things before, but I'd never taken her up on it.

My handwriting was the same as it had been before, so I instantly recognised it.

_ Hermione, _

_ Thank you for an amazing weekend. I know it was my gift to you for your birthday, but I feel like I'm the one who really received something special. This thing between us — it's not something I expected, but it's made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life. That's not an exaggeration, even if it sounds like one. You have given me so much of your time and, honestly, yourself. I can't even begin to express what that means to me.  _

_ I never thought I would get the chance to really know you. I thought we'd be acquaintances, co-workers — people who were distant, even though we'd been in each other's lives in one capacity or another since we were children. And now that I know you, I can't imagine not knowing you. I always suspected we would fit together perfectly — that you would complete me — but these past few months have confirmed it for me. _

_ I know the chances of us spending your birthday together again next year are slim since you'll likely have moved on to someone who can give you everything you deserve, but just know that I will always think of this weekend away. Every 19th of September, I'll turn these memories over in my mind and find another little detail about you to love, even if it's from afar. _

_ Like I told you last night, it doesn't matter how it ends. I just want to make the most of every single second that you and I spend together now.  _

_ I'll worship your body anytime, goddess. _

_ I love you.  _

_ Draco _

When I finished reading the letter, anger rushed through my veins again. But this time, it was more directed at myself. I'd told her I loved her, yes, but I'd also made it seem like she and I would never really have a chance. In the past, it seemed like I'd been willing to accept that she would move on. Even if that was at odds with my actions from the last memory, I'd still made it sound like I was okay with our relationship being temporary.

There was no chance I had actually felt that way.

I looked up and Granger was watching my expression carefully. I wanted to tear the parchment down the middle and toss it aside, but I knew I couldn't do that. She'd saved all of my letters, so they obviously meant something to her.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Well? What did you think?"

"It's just more of the same. I loved you, but I figured you'd leave me," I replied with a shrug. "Oh, and I was going to cherish the memories. Obviously that didn't happen."

Her cheeks reddened and she averted her eyes again.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she murmured. "Gods, remembering some of the things you said now that I know how it all ended — it makes it seem like I was intentionally — that I did this out of spite. But I didn't see another way forward."

I couldn't think of anything to say, so I stood there silently, letting the tension build between us. After a few moments, I looked towards the fireplace and took a few steps.

"You're leaving?" she asked, making me pause.

"I am. We'll talk more on Thursday. I just, I can't right now," I responded. "It's all too much."

She nodded, not saying anything further.

With one final glance in her direction, I took a handful of Floo Powder from the container on her mantle and threw it down in the grate.

But then I remembered the expression she’d worn on Sunday night when she’d thought I was going home to Astoria. I warred with myself for a second and then decided she needed to know.

She was pretending not to listen to where I was going, but I knew she was waiting with bated breath.

“I’m staying in the guest room of my house. I didn’t want to be away from Scorpius every single day.”

I heard her exhale. “I understand.”

“See you in the morning.”

Nodding, she rose from the couch. Before I vanished, I saw her heading for the stairs and I imagined her curling up in bed, finally letting the tears she’d been holding back all night fall.

She was alone, and I was just leaving her to cry on her own.

But I knew I couldn’t stay.

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen of my house, I tried to forget that image and focus on the exuberant toddler running towards me.

This was what Granger had wanted, why she’d done what she’d done — Scorpius needed a full-time father.

She didn’t  _ need _ me.

She hadn’t loved me, not in Greece.

Forcing a smile, I scooped my son off the ground and gave him my full attention.

I couldn’t think about her.

* * *

After an hour of playing with Scorpius and getting him ready for bed, I walked into the spare bedroom and closed the door; I didn’t want Astoria to think that she and I would be spending time together as soon as Scorpius was down for the night, and I wasn’t in the mood to argue about the fertility potion again.

I finally let my mind wander to the memory as a whole. 

Starting from the beginning, I tried to think things through. Blaise’s eyes had been on Hermione, watching her carefully as she watched me. I wouldn’t have noticed it at the time — especially since Blaise was sitting beside me — but I could see it clearly in the memory.

He had definitely been trying to cockblock me in the last two memories she’d shown me, and I wondered how many more he would show up in. I wondered if Granger would be watching for him, too.

As I loosened my tie — and noticed that it was blue — I thought about the Mediterranean. 

And her knickers.

Fuck, she’d stripped them off and just handed them to me like it was no big deal.

Subconsciously, I started to undress faster, my shirt hitting the floor just a few seconds before my trousers. I was left in my pants and, much to my surprise, my cock was hard.

Harder than it had been in months.

I closed my eyes, trying to bring my body to heel, but she was all I saw. The way her arms stretched over her head while she was topless and walking towards me, the way she’d spread herself out for me, the way she’d looked on top of me, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

And those images did nothing to calm the arousal coursing through my veins.

I hated her, but I wanted her. I wanted to remember everything about her properly, from the way her skin felt against mine to the scent of the sweat on her skin to the taste of her tongue.

With a sigh, I sat on the edge of the bed and braced my elbows on my knees, tangled my fingers in my hair. I could feel the ache in my balls, the stiffness of my cock. But I didn’t want to revert to the teenage version of myself, wanking to the thought of Granger behind closed doors. 

The more I tried to push her out of my mind, the more I remembered, and my body grew more and more desperate for a release.

On her knees between my thighs, the way her lips had teased me, the way her hand had wrapped around the base…

Giving up, I stood and stripped my shorts off, climbing back into the bed and wishing I had the Pensieve and memories so I didn’t have to try so hard to visualise her.

She was a fucking goddess.

Like I had hundreds of times before, I murmured a spell — one passed down from pureblood male to pureblood male — and my palm filled with lubricant. I swallowed hard, fully knowing that I shouldn’t be doing this. I didn’t forgive her. I fucking hated her.

But, fuck, she was all I could see. She was all I  _ wanted _ to see.

As I started stroking myself, squeezing the head of my prick on every upstroke and twisting my wrist, I imagined her.

In The Leaky Cauldron — up against the plain white walls, begging me.

Bent over her desk in the office — arse in the air, knuckles white from grabbing the opposite edge as she screamed for me.

Heated kisses in the file room.

On that damn sun lounger in Mykonos.

And then my mind started making up scenarios, and I had no idea if they were things we’d already done or not. 

I saw us together in her house — on the dining table where the trunk and the Pensieve had taken up residence, on the sofa where she’d been curled up, and then in her bed.

Fuck, in her bed.

When I’d gone up into her bedroom, the sheets had been red. 

Red, like the dress I could remember giving her. 

Like fucking Gryffindor or anger or passion — all things that I would forever associate with her.

And then I imagined her spread out on those red sheets, tanned skin completely bare, just waiting for me.

I groaned audibly, my hand squeezing harder, moving faster.

In my mind, she crawled off the bed and dropped to her knees in front of me.

_ I like giving— _

She’d been saying that before my past self had stupidly cut her off.

Red lips wrapped around the head of my cock. And she looked up at me through her lashes, her big brown eyes radiating heat. Threading my fingers into her hair, I guided her, watching the whole time. 

Fantasy Granger kept her eyes on me the whole time too.

As I imagined her, I felt little tingles of magic coursing up and down my spine, reminding me of the first time she’d touched me in her office. 

It felt so right, even if it was wrong.

The tingles moved downwards — straight into my groin — and I felt my cock swelling in my hand. In my head, I said, “Granger, I’m going to come.”

Or maybe it was aloud.

Fuck, I was so far gone, I didn’t even know.

Fantasy Granger took me deeper, her tongue teasing the underside of my cock, and pushed me over the edge, swallowing everything I gave her.

When my body started to calm and I felt the spend on my hand, I murmured a cleaning spell, the temporary relief lessened by the self-loathing I felt.

She took away every bit of self-control I possessed years ago, and now she was doing it again.

I hated her and wanted her in equal measure.

Honestly, I didn’t know where that would lead me.

How thin was the line between love and hate? And would I cross it without even realising it?

* * *

When I woke the next morning, I sent an owl to the office saying I would be in a bit late. After my lust-filled haze had dissipated, I’d remembered something Granger said the night before.

_ You told me you were trying to find a way to break the contract and get a divorce. _

I didn’t know if it was true or not, and when I asked Astoria that morning, she simply shrugged and said she had no idea. She’d never been included in my affairs.

I hadn’t missed the double entendre.

That left only one option — I had to speak to my father. If anyone knew for sure, it would likely be him. And, if he didn’t know what I was talking about, he would at least have a copy of the marriage contract for me to look over.

Stepping through the Floo at Malfoy Manor, I heard my mother’s surprised voice. “Draco?”

I simply nodded. “Yes, it’s me.”

She threw her arms around me, hugging me close. Even though I was still furious with everyone in my life, I returned her embrace. As soon as my arms were wrapped around her, she relaxed.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” she said, repeating herself over and over again. “I should’ve stopped it. I’m sorry.”

Not sure what to say, I remained silent. Eventually, she pulled back and looked up at me, searching my eyes for the answer I hadn’t given her. 

“I’m not going to tell you it’s okay,” I replied. “So if that’s what you’re looking for—”

“Of course not.” She wiped her eyes. “I know what we did — the lying, the hiding, all of it — it wasn’t okay.”

I swallowed hard. I had always hated seeing my mother upset, and today was no exception.

“Are you going to say anything?” she asked after a moment of strained silence.

“I’m not ready to talk,” I answered honestly. “I’m here because I need to know about my marriage contract. Is Father here?”

“What do you need to know?”

Running a hand through my fringe, I said, “Granger… She told me I said I was looking for a way to break the contract and get a divorce. But she didn’t believe that I was actually trying to. She never saw any proof of it.”

My mother’s shoulders sagged, and I was certain she knew something I couldn’t remember — maybe knew something that even my father and Astoria didn’t know. 

With a sigh, she turned and gestured for me to follow her. When we ended up in her study, I knew something was off. She took out her wand and started deconstructing wards on a desk drawer. 

As she worked, she explained, “After everything… When I found out how long things had been going on between you and Hermione, I went to your father’s solicitor to get the contract. I wanted to see if there was any way to break it, should the need arise.”

“And?”

She held up a finger, signalling that she needed a minute. When her wand stopped moving, the drawer popped open. 

“This is going to make everything seem worse right now,” she began, meeting my eyes as she handed me a stack of parchment. “But you’d already started the process, Draco. The solicitor had been looking for a way to break the contract without your father’s signature.”

My stomach turned.

“It… Well, the solicitor found a way.”

I looked at the date on the parchment. 18 th November 2005.

“After Granger Obliviated me,” I said, reading the details. “Upon Scorpius’ birth, I could have surrendered my portion of the Malfoy holdings to him and been free to break the contract.”

She nodded. “You were so close.”

A heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach.

“So, am I—does this mean I’m already divorced?”

“No,” my mother replied. “Not right now. But, if you want to be, you need only take this to the solicitor. Any inherited gold would transfer to Scorpius, along with the Manor and other properties upon your father’s death.”

Behind my back, I twisted my hands together, my nerves taking over.

“Do you…” I trailed off, the question sticking in my throat.

“Just ask, Draco,” she said. “I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know.”

“Do you think he’ll sign the papers to break the contract?”

“Without a doubt,” she answered. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but the guilt has been eating at your father since Scorpius was born.”

While I found that a bit interesting, I simply didn’t care. Not right now. My father’s guilt always got the best of him, sooner or later. Unfortunately for me, it was usually far too late to fix whatever predicament he’d managed to put me in.

“So this—” I held up the papers she’d retrieved for me “—isn’t needed. It was all for nothing because it came too late.”

Nervously, she chewed at her bottom lip. “You could show it to Hermione.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Draco, you love her—”

“Loved her,” I corrected. “I loved her until I found out what she did to me. And she’s with Blaise.”

My mother scoffed and waved a hand. “That won’t last another week now that you’re back in the picture. She’s not been sleeping with him — not since you two were spotted in Falmouth.”

“That was less than two weeks ago, Mother,” I reminded her. “And how do you even know that?”

“I just do,” she said. “She wouldn’t — not when you’re going to her house every other night.”

“I hate her,” I replied petulantly, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Listen, Mother, I appreciate that you have confidence that Granger will want to fix this, but I don’t want to.”

“I’m not going to push you, Draco,” she began, her voice taking on the coaxing tone she used with my father, signalling that she absolutely was going to push me. “But be kind to Hermione. She’s been through a lot—” 

“ _ She _ has been through a lot? What about me?”

Chastened, she corrected herself. “You’ve both been through a lot. But if you’re cruel to her, you may push her away forever.”

“And that would be fine,” I stated, even though the very thought of never seeing her again made the weight in my stomach grow heavier, the nausea intensify.

“It wouldn’t be fine, and you know it.”

Unwilling to continue the conversation, I started making my way towards the door. “I need to get to work. Thank you for these.”

“Draco, your father—”

“I’ll come back when I’m ready to talk,” I said, ending the conversation. “Until then, arrange time with Scorpius through Astoria since she’s home with him during the day.”

Her lips quirked up in a small smile.

As usual, she knew she’d won — if I was going to let her see Scorpius, my anger towards her was cooling and I’d come around.

However, I wasn’t ready yet. And I certainly wasn’t ready to face my father.

Just as I was about to leave, I remembered something. 

“Mother?”

She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue.

“The books I got from Granger over the years… Are they still here?” I asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” she replied, rising to her feet. “Didn’t you read some of them while you were recovering?”

I nodded. “I did, but I’m willing to bet there are more than those few Muggle ones.”

“Well, you weren’t really living here during the months you were seeing Hermione. You may have to ask Astoria where they ended up—”

“She probably burned them,” I grumbled, and then I thought back to when I'd first started recovering. "But the Muggle books were here. I wonder if I kept them in the Manor. You know, for obvious reasons."

My mother considered what I'd said. "We had the elves pack some things up from your old bedroom. They might be in those boxes."

She snapped her fingers and Cherie appeared at her side. "Cherie, can you please tell me if you have any books from Draco's room stored anywhere?"

Cherie nodded, her ears swaying with the motion. "We has some in the attic, Master Draco. They was on the top shelf in your closet."

If they were hidden away, they must have been significant.

"Can you please send them over to my house at some point? I'm staying in the bedroom beside Scorpius'."

"Yes, of course, Master Draco."

"Thank you, Cherie. You don't have to do it right now."

She bowed and popped away, and my mother turned to me. 

"If you don't love her, why do you want the books?" she asked carefully.

I swallowed hard. "Because I need to know what happened. That's all, Mother."

"The books won't provide clarity on that. I can't imagine she wrote full love letters in them."

With a shrug of my shoulders, I said, "It doesn't matter. I want to know everything, no matter how small."

She sighed. "Okay, Draco."

"I've got to get to the office anyway," I told her. "I'm already behind schedule."

"Alright. I'll see you..." Her words trailed off, and even though I was mad, I couldn't leave without reassuring her that I'd be back.

I kissed her cheek, the way I'd been doing for nearly my whole life, and she smiled.

"Thank you for the papers," I said quietly. "I'll have to figure out when I started the whole process."

"I've no doubt you'll put it all together."

* * *

“Malfoy.”

At the sound of Blaise’s voice, my hackles instantly rose. This was exactly like the day he’d pulled me out into the hallway to tell me to stay away from Granger.

In my head, I swore to Salazar that I would  _ Avada _ him on the spot if this was more of that same bullshit.

“Zabini,” I answered, casting a  _ Muffliato _ . “How can I help you?”

“Where is she?” he asked, sounding slightly desperate.

Immediately, my eyes bounced over to Granger’s door. It was after ten and she still wasn’t here.

That was unusual.

“I don’t know—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Blaise growled under his breath. “I know you were with her last night.”

Holding my hands up, I said, “I went home around eight and put Scorpius to bed. We watched the memory, and I left.”

He looked towards her door again.

“Was she upset when you left?”

A feeling of dread started to seep into my consciousness, and I remembered another thing Granger had said to me before we watched the first memory —  _ I had to deal with so fucking much that I ended up institutionalised and then in therapy for eight months after that! Don’t pretend like you know what my life’s been like. _

“Yes,” I answered, my chest tightening. “Yes, she seemed upset.”

His hands flew to the sides of his head, his palms pressing against his temples. “And you just left her? Don’t you understand—”

“What am I supposed to do?” Narrowing my eyes, I continued, “Honestly, would you have preferred that I stayed with her? Held her?”

“Of course not—”

“I hate her, Blaise. I hate her for what she did to me, and I hate her for taking up with you. And I hate you for thinking that it’s just okay that she did this to me—”

Just then, Potter’s office door opened and Granger stepped out, her eyes watery. When she saw me standing beside Blaise, she dashed her tears with the back of her hand. She politely nodded and then made a hasty retreat to her office.

“Hermione—”

“Granger—”

Blaise and I spoke at the same time, and she froze.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Go ahead, Zabini. I’ll catch up with her later.”

The air was full of tension and I could see how stiff Granger’s shoulders were. She didn’t want to speak with Blaise — or maybe either of us — and she couldn’t relax. I wondered what had happened or if she was still upset from the previous night…

“Malfoy,” Potter said, drawing my attention away from Granger. “I need to talk to you about the Belby case. He’s being arraigned tomorrow.”

“Of course,” I replied, taking a step towards him as Blaise followed Granger. “Whatever you need.”

Potter stepped back into his office and waited for me to enter before closing the door.

“I’ve stayed out of this so far,” he began, ruffling his dark hair even more than usual. “But she’s becoming a wreck again.”

“And what would you like me to do about it?” 

He sighed. “Honestly? I want you to finish watching whatever memories she wants you to see and then I want you to stay away from her.”

“That’s my plan—”

“Is it?” he interrupted. “Because she seems to think that you were trying to tell her something last night.”

“Explain.”

“She said you were trying to convince her that you and Astoria only slept together the night she got pregnant,” Potter said, looking down at his hands. “And she told me you also clarified your living arrangements for her.”

I struggled to find the right words. “Potter, Astoria told me that we hadn’t slept together for nearly eight months when we conceived Scorpius. Why would she lie about that?” His lips parted, but no sound came out, so I continued. “And I clarified my sleeping arrangements because she looked like I had punched her in the gut the first night I Floo’d back to my house. It’s… It’s all nothing. It’s not important.”

He shook his head. “This is what I meant, Malfoy. You need to stay away from her because she’s searching for deeper meaning in everything you say to her. It  _ is _ important to her.”

Scoffing, I said, “It wasn’t important to her when she stole my memories.”

“You’re an idiot.” Closing his eyes, Potter rubbed at his forehead. “Honestly, how are you and Blaise both so fucking blind?”

“Well, I don’t have glasses like yours,” I quipped. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“Because it’s not my fucking place. But don’t think for a second that she made that decision lightly or that it meant she suddenly didn’t care about you, because she never stopped.”

“You don’t manipulate someone you love that way,” I said, even though I knew the situation hadn’t been that simple. 

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t keep someone you love a dirty little secret for a year and a half.”

While I knew he was right, I didn’t acknowledge it. And I wasn’t going to tell anyone that the solicitor had managed to find a loophole for a divorce; I hadn’t even really processed it yet.

“Did you actually need to talk about Belby or did you just want to scold me for hurting Granger’s feelings?”

“You’re an arse,” he said, resigned. “Everything for Belby’s case was put together perfectly. I don’t need anything else from you. Just be ready when you’re called to testify.”

I turned towards the door, ready to move on with my day, and then I remembered I hadn’t been assigned a new case yet.

“Do you have anything else for me to work on? An older case that’s been hanging around?”

Potter nodded. “I have an idea, but I’m going to have to find it. The file’s been tucked away.”

“Well, let me know when you have it in hand,” I answered. “And — just so we’re clear — I’m not working with Zabini on anything.”

“Oh, I know. He’s requested the same.”

“Good.”

Wrenching the door open, I strode over to my desk. Mel was at hers and greeted me with a smile.

“Anything new come in for you yet?”

“No,” I replied. “Potter said he has something older for me, though. He just has to put the file together. Has Blaise brought you in on anything?”

She rolled her eyes. “Like he’s been working. He’s been spending half his time drunk in Falmouth since last week.”

I wanted to question her, but I held back.

After a moment, she said, “He and Hermione are on the way out. I can feel it.”

She was digging, saying all the right things to try to get information out of me. It seemed that Blaise was confiding in someone, and I wondered if he’d asked her to talk to me. If Granger wasn’t speaking to him, then he might be looking for insight on what she’d been showing me…

Clearly, Mel had no idea who she was talking to. I turned the tables on her.

“What makes you say that?”

She pursed her lips, acting like she was thinking. “Well, since March, they’ve been together nearly every single night, and now she hasn’t stayed with him in almost a week.”

While I’d known that they were spending their nights together, it still made me feel ill.

Trying to act nonchalant, I shrugged. “Things happen. I’m sure they can work it out eventually.”

She tapped her fingers on her desk, her fingernails clicking against the hard surface.

“I might agree with you if Blaise wasn’t being such an utter tosser.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know much about him anymore. His behaviour is the same as it’s been since I came back to work,” I replied, trying not to give anything away.

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We all saw the three of you walk out of here in a huff last week. You’re really not fooling anyone. We all know there’s something going on, so you might as well tell me.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.”

Mel started pulling her hair up into a ponytail. “Well, let me take a wild guess.” As she wrapped the hair tie around and around, she continued, “You and Hermione had something going on at some point. I don’t know if it was before you were married or after or what, but something. Or you fancied her and he knew about it—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” I stated. “This is all none of your business. If you want to know what’s going on with Blaise and Granger, talk to him. I’m not going to tell you our whole life story.”

“But there  _ is _ a story?”

Fuck.

“You’ve just told me that everyone could see it. Blaise, Granger, Potter, Pansy, and I all went to school together which, again, everyone knows.” Meeting her eyes, I said, “But, beyond that, I don’t even  _ know _ the story, which you seem to have conveniently forgotten.”

“Draco, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologise. You’re here being a nosy bint, but I really can’t figure out your angle. Did Blaise put you up to this? Or are you trying to figure out a way to get Granger out of the way because you’re interested in him?”

Her cheeks reddened, and I knew I was at least close to the mark.

“Either way, talk to Blaise, not to me. I have no memory of just about anything since the end of the war, save Auror training and my son.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Mel said quietly, trying to calm me. “I just — I’m worried about him.”

“Then talk to him,” I replied. “Go sit with him while he’s getting pissed or whatever—”

Granger’s door flew open and Zabini came out, looking angrier than I’d ever seen him. He slammed it closed and then headed for the lifts. Mel’s eyes followed him the whole way.

“There’s your chance,” I said to her. “Follow him. Find out what’s going on if you really want to know. He’ll likely tell you everything you want to know right now.”

Shaking her head, she shrugged. “There’s only one person he’ll talk to right now, and it’s definitely not me.”

* * *

Granger didn’t come out of her office all day.

While I sat at my desk and tied up the few loose ends for the Belby case, I was watching for her, waiting for her to make an appearance. Around midday, Potter brought her lunch. Two hours later, he went into her office, likely to say goodbye for the day.

By five, I was wondering if she was ever going to leave.

Standing and stretching, I took a deep breath, debating on whether or not I wanted to speak to her. Before I actively decided, my body was moving towards her office, a moth to the flame like always.

Like the years hadn’t changed a thing.

When I knocked on the door, there was no answer, and I imagined her sitting behind her desk debating on whether or not she wanted to deal with whoever had dared to disturb her. After a moment, I tapped again, hoping she’d answer.

“Come in,” she said, her voice small and barely audible. When she saw it was me, she sighed heavily. “What? What do you want?”

Closing the door behind me, I took a seat in front of her desk. “Bad day?”

She laughed but it sounded hysterical, like she might cry at any second.

“Is there something work-related that you need, Malfoy?”

I looked away. “No, there’s not, but—”

“Please leave,” she said. “I have a lot to do before next week, and I really can’t handle both of you making me feel like I’m the one doing everything wrong in the same day.”

“Granger,” I replied carefully, keeping my tone measured and even. “I’m not here to do that. I came to check on you.”

“Strange thing to do considering you hate me so much.”

My head snapped back so I could meet her eyes. The warmth they’d radiated in my fantasy was gone. They were black — hollow — and I could feel her pain.

I repeated myself. “Granger—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “I knew that if you ever found out, you’d hate me. Really, I’m not surprised.”

Her resigned tone left me speechless.

“Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Hermione—”

“Don’t!” she cried. “You don’t get to say you hate me and then waltz in here and pretend like we’re friends, Draco!” Her fingers pressed into her temples and her eyes squeezed shut, tears escaping. “You don’t get to call me Hermione when we’re not — when you’re not — when we’re not even friends.”

My throat tightened and every inch of my body was screaming at me to comfort her, to take her pain away.

Except for my brain. 

My brain told me that she deserved this, that she had betrayed me and just cast me aside.

“And you’re not even denying it,” she continued, her hysteria rising. “Please, just go. Just let me try to figure out how to fix myself.”

She was shattering in front of me; I could see her cracking, the pieces she’d somehow put back together falling apart again, and I wondered how many times I’d broken her.

How many times had she broken me?

I felt part of myself cracking now, splintering under the strain ignoring her put on me. 

“If that’s what you want,” I said, and the sound was almost foreign, my voice hoarse.

Rising to my feet, I looked down at her, though her eyes were still closed and I could see she was keeping her lips pressed tightly together.

If the splintered piece of me fell, I left it with her, knowing it wasn’t the only part of me she had in her possession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few weeks are a bit packed with surprises... Fitting that all the little gifts fall around my birthday.
> 
> Thank you for reading... 💙


	45. Hermione, 27th-28th June 2007

He’d called me Hermione.

Out of all the ridiculous things that my brain chose to fixate on, it was that one little thing; he hadn’t called me Hermione since he’d found out about the Obliviation. It had been Granger, and not in the sweet, teasing way.

I was irrationally angry that he’d used my name when we were in a bad place.

When my door clicked shut, I silenced my office and fired a Reductor Curse at the chair he’d been sitting in, blowing it to bits. I was still crying, my heart a shattered mess all over the floor.

Everything Blaise had told me that morning had broken me.

_Don’t you want to know what he said to me, Hermione? He hates you. He’s never going to forgive you for what you did to him. It doesn’t matter how many times you apologise or what memories you show him; the end result is the same._

_Draco hates you._

And when he’d seen how affected I was by all of that, he continued on.

_I’ve been here for you and given you everything you’ve ever asked for. And you’re still pulling away. You still love him more, no matter what I do or give up for you._

_When will you get it, Hermione?_

_You and Draco aren’t meant to be. You’re not supposed to work out._

_There is no happy ending for the two of you._

_I love you. I’m here for you. I was there for you when he was tearing you down, when he got Astoria pregnant._

_Who was there for you when Lucius threatened your family?_

_Who was there for you after the Obliviation? After you went into the hospital?_

We’d gone back and forth again. No matter how many times I tried to explain that I wasn’t fully in love with Draco anymore, he wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept reminding me of everything he’d done for me, and it made me feel guilty. I knew that was his intention, but it wasn’t making me love him any more.

What Ron had said replayed in my mind. “That doesn’t mean you have to marry the bloke, Hermione.”

Being there for someone — a friend — shouldn’t create some sort of life debt or obligation. But it seemed that Blaise thought it did, and that broke me even further. While it was obvious that he’d cared about me, he also wanted something in return.

As more and more fights erupted, more and more doubts crept into my mind, and I didn’t think I could give him what he wanted. He wanted some perfect, better version of me that had just moved on and completely forgotten about Draco.

That person didn’t exist.

There was a part of me that was still in love with Draco, but I knew that what I’d said to Draco was true — we constantly hurt each other. We weren’t good for each other, and I knew that would become clearer as we watched more memories.

But Blaise had changed, too — he’d morphed into someone nearly unrecognisable, his jealousy and anger running unchecked. 

Ultimately, I knew I’d caused that change, and that only brought more guilt. His feelings for me had started poisoning him from the moment Draco had re-entered our lives. The guilt was irrational — I’d done nothing wrong — but I knew he wouldn’t have been like this, if not for the past relationship I’d had with Draco.

That affair had harmed so many people, ruined so many lives… But, I also knew that if I could go back, I wouldn’t really change a thing. As horrible as it was, it also made me feel in a way I hadn’t before, made me see the world in a different light.

And when that light had gone out, I’d been left in darkness for so long that I’d nearly forgotten what the world looked like when Draco and I shared space, when my skin touched his. It was bright, vibrant — blues like the Mediterranean in Mykonos, red like the dress he bought me and the lipstick he favoured on me and the awnings on our Paris hotel, yellow like the cabs in New York City, sparkling silver like his eyes, or a myriad of rainbows like the Cartier diamond painted across the walls when I wore it. 

The light and colours were different with Blaise. They were there, but not as bright. When I thought of Blaise, I saw Venice and Falmouth, the neutral tones of his flat. It was murkier, muted, clouded by the anger he felt towards me, especially now.

With a sigh, I shut my brain off, repaired the chair, and waved my wand, stripping the walls bare. All of my belongings packed themselves away neatly. I didn’t take the time to sift through everything; I could do that when I unpacked. The photo Blaise had given me was on the top of the box and, as I looked down at it, I felt more tears threatening.

Once again, I was hurt that he’d given me the photo out of jealousy rather than love.

I shrunk the box down, cast a weightlessness charm on it, and packed it into my handbag. I’d think about it next week when I was unpacking, not right now. 

Leaving my office, I locked the door and moved quickly towards the lift.

When I heard someone walking behind me, moving quickly to catch up, I knew it would be Draco yet again. But I couldn’t get myself under control, couldn’t push everything down.

Today had been too much.

When he reached out and pressed the button to call the lift, I closed my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quietly. “I genuinely was trying to check on you.”

Opening them, I turned to face him, letting him see how broken I was. His hand started moving towards me and I stepped back, avoiding him. 

“Don’t. Please don’t touch me.”

If he did, his magic would seep under my skin and touch mine, make my soul sing, and I couldn’t let him.

“Okay.” His hands dropped back to his sides. 

My chest was tight and my throat hurt, but I managed to breathe almost normally. Sharing a lift was doable. I’d stand as far away from him as I could, and it would all be fine.

And then I remembered lift rides of the past, his hand under my skirt, his fingers teasing me relentlessly. I remembered how we’d squeezed into corners just so we’d be pressed together.

“Granger?” 

I blinked and realised the doors had opened in front of me. His hand was extended, gesturing for me to go first.

Thankfully, there was an older witch in the compartment. I stepped to one side of her, hoping Draco would stick to hating me and stand on the opposite one.

But he wavered, the line between love and hate blurring for him, the way it had for me so often.

He stood in front of me and I stared at his back, his neck, his perfectly fucking neat hair. 

Gods, I could remember other times where he’d stand in front of me in the lift and my hands would sneak under his jacket, run along the waistband of his trousers, smooth down the front, tease him relentlessly.

When I huffed out a breath, I saw his hand fist at his side, and I knew he was itching to turn around, to talk further or examine my expression.

However, the lift thankfully landed at the Atrium level, and I followed him out. He paused and looked over his shoulder, silently asking me a question, the way he used to.

_Do you need me?_

_Do you want me to come home with you?_

_I’m opening the door for you. Just walk through it._

_Tell me you need me, and I’m there._

I swallowed hard and shook my head. Spending time with him would only complicate things, and I’d be with him tomorrow night. And it was clear he was conflicted about me. He cared, but he was still angry. He simultaneously wanted to know everything and nothing about our relationship.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, further signalling that I was going this alone.

Draco gave a single nod and moved to the nearest Floo as quickly as possible, like he had to get away before he said something more.

Once he disappeared, I retraced his steps and used the same fireplace, though I was sure I stepped out into a very different scene from the one he’d landed in.

My main living area had been disturbed since this morning.

There was shattered glass on the floor.

A book was open atop the table, a sealed envelope on top of it.

I stood frozen on the hearth, a chill sweeping down my spine as my defenses raised.

“ _Homenum Revelio_ ,” I murmured, though anyone in my house would’ve heard the Floo activate. The spell indicated that I was alone, and I didn’t know if I felt relieved or even more terrified. 

Turning my wand to the broken glass, I said, “ _Reparo_.” 

Two figures formed, the shards separating themselves and reverting to their original shapes.

_The otter and the dragon._

Again, a chill moved through me, and I knew who had done this — who had caused this destruction in my home. I stepped into the room, bending down to pick up the glass figurines and stroking my thumbs over them. Magic had put them back together, rejoining the broken bonds in the glass.

When I reached the table, I was thankful that I’d put all of Draco’s memories in unbreakable vials, though there was one out of place, sitting in the Pensieve. Glancing down, I saw the hotel suite in Paris and my heart started racing. He’d watched me with Draco. 

I felt sick, but I pushed through, focusing on the other anomaly in front of me.

The open book was one of my journals. Setting down the figurines and my bag, I picked up the envelope and could feel it had weight to it. My name was written across the front in Blaise’s neat scrawl.

The journal, however, was open to the pages I’d hoped Blaise would never see. The entry was the one from the first time I’d seen Draco in Diagon Alley. I read it again, even though I nearly knew it by heart.

_I saw you again today, and it’s no better than it was a year ago._

_You were with her and your beautiful son. You looked so fucking happy that I almost felt happy for a minute — I hadn’t seen your smile in so long — and then I remembered that happiness wasn’t directed at me. She is making you happy, just like your father said she would if I disappeared from your life. I thought he had been wrong, that you still wouldn’t feel right with her, even if I was removed from the equation. I thought you were so different that you’d never find common ground._

_How can you look at her and smile like that? You told me so many times that you cannot stand her and her vapid, social-climbing desires. You told me you never wanted to marry her and that she couldn’t make you happy._

_You lied. It was all a lie._

_Like a masochist, I sat at a cafe table and watched your perfect little family walk along the street. Your son, the miniature version of you, toddled along, holding on to one of your fingers with one hand and one of hers with the other. I’ve never felt such searing jealousy course through me before but, then again, she has given you something that I never could’ve. I never could’ve given you that child with porcelain skin and straight white blond hair and light eyes. When you looked at her with affection in your eyes, I nearly pulled my wand out to shoot a hex at you._

_However, I refrained. I left a few Galleons on the table and I got up, quickly walking to the opposite side of the street. I prayed that no one would stop me today. It’s been nearly ten years since the bloody war. I shouldn’t be important to anyone anymore. My luck has been shit for the past three years, though, so I was stopped by a mother and her little girl. I was not in the mood to look at another perfect child and smile, but that wasn’t this little girl’s fault. I smiled and chatted to her, and then I rushed along. Apparently, you and your family had crossed the street, and I crashed right into you._

_You looked down at me, those grey eyes that haunt my dreams boring holes into my brain. I grabbed your arm to steady myself. For a second, I thought I saw a flicker of heat or love, but then you spoke. “Granger, you can let go now.”_

_How fucking apt, I thought. As if I haven’t been trying to do just that for over a year now._

_“Sorry, Malfoy,” I said, not able to articulate anything more._

_Astoria cleared her throat. “We need to go, Draco. Your father is expecting us at the Manor.”_

_I released your shirt and stepped back, but you hadn’t looked away yet. You were staring, like you were trying to figure something out or find something in me._

_Your son started babbling. “Da-dada-da-da.”_

_That snapped you out of whatever momentary trance you had been in while looking at me. You seamlessly bent down and lifted the boy, turning toward me in such a natural way that my breath caught. “Scorp, wave to Granger. We need to get to your grandfather’s house.”_

_The little boy looked at me, his eyes a silvery-blue color, and he waved. Astoria grabbed your arm and pulled you along. As soon as you had turned, she shot me a sly little smile, knowing she had won in the end. She had you and your son and there I was, totally alone._

_I started to walk down the street again, reaching the Apparition point. I spun on the spot and landed in my little house. It’s the same house where you used to spend most of your time before everything went to shit._

_I can’t afford to sell it and move, but I’m not sure if I could ever do it anyway._

_I sat in the armchair that you used to occupy, and I leant forward, elbows on knees and my face buried in my hands. I repeated the words that have been my mantra for the past eighteen months._

_It was for the best._

_You have a son._

_You have a wife._

_You don’t even know what you’re missing, what I’m missing._

_Lucius will kill my parents if I don’t stay away from you._

_It was for the best._

_You’re off living a new life, one that is basically built on a lie that I created for you so you wouldn’t miss what we once had._

_And I’m still here, in the same little house, just living with the memory of you._

Blaise had read this — this entry where all of my pain and raw emotions were on display, where I hadn’t mentioned him at all — and he’d smashed the Patronus figurines. 

I could understand the rage.

But what I didn’t understand was the envelope.

If he had been that angry, why would he take the time to write a letter?

Taking a deep breath, I summoned my tiny bit of remaining courage and slid my finger into the envelope, opening it slowly. The first thing I noticed was the glint of a gemstone.

My heart fell to the floor, along with the envelope.

I pulled my wand from my pocket and tried to focus on a happy memory. I hadn’t tried to cast a Patronus in years, but I needed someone to read this with me.

When had I been happiest of late?

James and Sev’s faces filled my mind — the way they’d laughed and run and played at the park — and I waved my wand. “ _Expecto Patronum_!”

At first, I thought I’d failed at casting. Silver vapour erupted, but not my otter. However, just as I was getting ready to cast again, it shifted into the form of a dragon.

“No!” I cried, looking at Draco’s Patronus in front of me, my stomach churning. “Why? Why is he taking over every part of me?”

The dragon looked confused and sad.

“Please go to Ron,” I told it. “Ask him to come to me. Harry too.”

It nodded, giving me a bit of a sneer at the end. I might have been imagining things at this point, though.

I knelt down on the floor, reaching for the envelope.

My Floo activated and Ron stepped through. “Bloody hell, Hermione! When did your—”

Harry stumbled out, knocking into Ron. “Why is your Patronus a dragon?”

They both noticed my position on the floor and rushed over to me, the Patronus forgotten. I handed them the envelope.

“Can you—I think there’s a ring in there…”

Ron opened it and tipped it sideways. Sure enough, a ring — one with a diamond of obscene size — landed in his palm.

“Who—”

“Blaise,” I murmured. “Blaise was here while I was at work. He read”—I gestured to the table—“my journals. I asked him not to.”

Turning the ring over in his hand, he said, “There’s a letter here, too.”

Looking up at Harry, I silently begged him to read it. 

“Hermione,” he began, his voice gentle. “What happened?”

I shrugged, even though I knew. Blaise had finally snapped.

Harry sighed and took the envelope from Ron, pulling the letter free. I watched as his eyes skimmed over the words, widening slightly.

“What?” I asked. “What could he possibly have said?”

“I think you need to read it for yourself,” Harry stated. “I’m not—I can’t read it to you.”

“How bad is it?” Ron asked.

“It’s… It’s a lot.”

After setting the ring on the table, Ron’s hands moved to my shoulders, pulling me to standing. He guided me to the sofa and Harry followed closely behind, letter in hand. He sat beside me, tucking me into his side, and Ron took the armchair.

“If you read this, you’re coming back to Grimmauld with me tonight. And we’re locking your house down.”

Again, my stomach churned.

Ron gave Harry a look that plainly said _what the fuck?_

With shaky hands, I took the parchment.

_Hermione,_

_I know you asked me not to read the journals, but I couldn’t take wondering. I had to know. I had to know what you’ve been thinking since he came back. You won’t talk to me, and you just keep pushing me away. I don’t understand how you could just turn your back on me as soon as he’s around after everything I did to help you._

_We were building something real. You told me you loved me, and then you pushed me away again. You get mad at me about Sara and the little white lie I told you, but it’s somehow okay that Draco was with another woman the whole time you were together?_

_I can’t take it. I will never understand why you’re just okay with letting him back into your life. He promised you he wasn’t having sex with Astoria and then he got her pregnant. He treated you like you were nothing more than a whore—_

I choked back a sob. Through all the arguments we’d had, he’d never said anything like that. He’d well and truly snapped; he knew that Draco and I had been so much more than a sexual affair. Wiping my tears, I kept reading.

_Why don’t you want to be happy? I can make you happy — I’ve been doing it for months. I’ve given you every single bit of my heart, welcomed you into my home, turned other women away, and all I wanted was for you to love me in return._

_The enclosed ring is yours; I was going to take you away for your birthday and ask you to marry me. I’ve only ever wanted that with you. I can’t even imagine marrying anyone else, but you’d rather fall into playing the other woman for Draco again. Instead of being someone’s everything, you’re willing to settle for a daily shag and the occasional weekend away. You’re willing to give up having your own kids, your own family, for him._

_I know you try to fill that void with Potter’s kids, but it will never be the same._

_I wanted to fix everything for you. Watching Draco break you down was painful for me, but once he was gone, we were supposed to be something. I thought if Draco could make you fall in love with him, I could too. I thought I had, to be honest with you, but then you had to let him in again._

_Read the journal entry. Read how you thought. You didn’t even think of me once. You just went on and on about how Astoria had won and how you were alone and it was for the best._

_What about me, Hermione?_

_I’m leaving Britain — which, in retrospect, is what I should’ve suggested we do as soon as I found out Draco was coming back. I need that space and time you keep going on about. I don’t think therapy is the answer to what’s broken inside of you, but if you’d rather talk than take action to sort yourself out, then go for it. I just can’t do it, especially if you won’t be honest with me about what you’re feeling for Draco._

_Just know that I love you. I will always love you, even if you’re too broken to truly love me back._

_Blaise_

Once I was through the letter, I could feel pain in my chest. It was so much worse than I thought it would be. I never would’ve expected Blaise to flat out tell me I was broken. He had wanted to marry me, and I’d known that, but to see the evidence — that he’d already had the ring and a plan — and then have him basically tell me that I was too broken to handle it… It just broke me more.

I didn’t think he would want to know my feelings for Draco.

Crumpling the letter, I threw it towards the fireplace and looked to Ron, tears streaming down my face freely.

“Take that ring with you when you leave,” I said, my voice breaking. “I can’t—I can’t look at it.”

“Hermione,” he began, and I shook my head, cutting him off. He looked to Harry. “What did that wanker say?”

“That I’m broken. That he’s leaving, just like everyone always does. He’s not even willing to try going to therapy with me.”

Ron stood and walked over to the hearth, kicking the balled up parchment into the fireplace and pointing his wand at it. _“Incendio!”_ he growled. “You are _not_ broken. And even if you were, you’re trying to fix yourself. If he can’t be there for you when things are hard, he doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

Harry quickly agreed. “Everything is going to work out, Hermione. You’re going to start over, and you won’t be with someone who is holding this relationship with Draco over your head and lying to you.”

I knew they were trying to help, but right now, I just wanted to cry. I needed to mourn the loss of Blaise, both as a lover and as the best friend I’d had through one of the most difficult times in my life. It had been obvious that we were heading in that direction but, once again, knowing what was going to happen hadn’t made it any easier for me.

Leaning against Harry, I cried harder than I had in years. Blaise had used my words against me, turning time and space into something more permanent than I had ever thought I wanted it to be and shattering my heart even further.

He was gone, and while I was angry at him for the lies and things he’d said, it still fucking hurt. 

And he’d said the most horrible things, stomping on the already broken parts of me.

What I couldn’t understand was his comment about Draco — that I was willing to settle for being the other woman again, for never having kids of my own. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t falling back into old patterns with Draco. In fact, I’d made sure to avoid touching him or letting him in too far at all costs.

“Hermione?” Ron said quietly, kneeling in front of me. “You’ve got to pull it together a little bit. You’re going to make yourself ill.”

I covered my face with my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I began. “I shouldn’t have bothered you—”

I felt long fingers wrapping around my wrists, prying my hands away so I had to look at him.

“You haven’t bothered us. We are here for you,” he said, his voice calmer than I’d expected. “And the fact that you’re asking for help means that you’re not broken.”

Slowly, I nodded. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Hermione, I’m sorry you’re going through this. I didn’t think he’d just—”

“I didn’t think so, either,” I answered, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I know I wasn’t perfect and I hid things, but I never — I’m not trying to start something with Draco again. I swear.”

Tightening his arm around my shoulders, he said, “I know that. I know you don’t want to go back there. You don’t have to explain anything.”

“And he read my journals. I asked him not to, and he came here and did it anyway.”

Ron continued to kneel in front of me and his hand squeezed my knee. “He’s a right git for doing that.”

“Yeah, well, he also decided to smash the otter and the dragon.” I huffed out a breath. “Apparently he just decided to be a total fucking arsehole all around.”

I saw the boys exchange a glance, and then Harry squeezed me. “So, your Patronus…”

“I hadn’t cast one in years. I haven’t had a need for it,” I answered. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

“I wasn’t surprised at all, actually,” Harry stated. “I never mentioned it because I didn’t think it would be a good thing, but Draco… his Patronus is an otter now. Or it was when Scorpius was born.”

Of course it was.

Our Patronuses had switched at some point.

“And Blaise’s was a lioness,” I said quietly. “I don’t know what any of this means anymore.”

Ron stood and took out his wand, casting his Patronus with a furrowed brow. It was the same as it had always been. He looked to Harry.

“Mine’s still the stag, too. There’s nothing wrong with it staying the same.”

“Right. I was just curious,” Ron replied. “Has Blaise’s always been a lioness?”

Harry thought back. “Since Auror training, yeah.”

I’d asked Blaise how long he’d waited for me, and his only answer had been _a lot fucking longer than you know_.

Did it really go back that far?

“Are you sure?” I asked, and he nodded. “Does that mean something?”

“What does it matter?” Ron said, narrowing his eyes. “After tonight — what he wrote in that letter — he’d better just fuck right off and stay wherever he ran off to.”

Casting my eyes down, I stared at my folded hands. I knew Ron was right. The violence of smashing my mementos, the harsh words, the way he placed all the blame on me… I couldn’t let Blaise back into my life after this. It was too much. 

“Do you want me to change your wards?” Harry asked. “I can block him out.”

Swallowing hard, I looked up when I answered. “Yes. Change them. He can’t come back here.”

And it struck me that I’d never once blocked Draco out, no matter how bad his jealous behaviour had gotten.

“While I do this, go get some things together for tonight. You’re coming back to Grimmauld with me.”

As Harry rose, he pulled me to my feet and looked to Ron. “Do you want to come over for a bit too?”

Ron looked at me questioningly, giving me the choice.

“You can go be with Luna and Stella,” I said, giving him the out. “Harry and Pansy will take care of me.”

“Let me Floo home. It’s still early. I’m sure no one’s eaten dinner,” Ron replied. “Think Pansy will mind if we come round?”

Harry shook his head. “There’s always room at Grimmauld.”

“Really, I don’t want everyone to upend—”

“We’re not, Hermione. We’re all going to sit around the table, watch the kids play, and have a meal,” Ron interrupted. “Stop acting like you’re an inconvenience. You’re not. We want to be here for you.”

His sincerity was obvious and I slowly started to make my way towards the stairs. Looking over my shoulder, I simply said, “Thank you.”

* * *

“I’m going to effing kill him for this,” Pansy hissed under her breath, her eyes roaming around and looking at the kids. “He knew you were going to have a hard time with it, and things get rough and he just leaves without actually talking to you?” 

“Seems like it,” Ron replied for me. “Running off before Hermione has the chance to break his heart, I guess.”

Luna’s eyes were focused on me, reading my expressions and taking everything in. It was unnerving because I had no idea what she might say.

“Granger, do you think that’s it?” Pansy asked. “He was afraid?”

I carded a hand through my curls. “Well, I had no warning. I thought he would be coming back to Penelope’s with me on Monday, but I guess he decided he was done after he read my journals.”

“I’m going to hunt him down. I can’t believe I encouraged you towards someone who would just walk away like that.” She twisted her wedding band on her finger. “He told me he’d been in love with you for years. Why would he just give up?”

Luna’s ethereal voice filled the room. “Because he knew some things can’t ever be changed. There’s been something connecting Hermione and Draco for years.”

Looking at his wife, Ron said, “And you never told me?”

She patted his hand. “You weren’t ready to hear it. I know you, love.” Her wide blue eyes fixed on me. “Nor were you, though I suspect you knew there was something there from the first time you had intercourse.”

Harry choked on his water and Pansy scoffed. “We’ve all known about Hermione and Draco for nearly two years now, and you’ve never mentioned this before.”

Luna hummed. “Well, it really wasn’t my business to share.”

“Enough,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about Draco. Whatever was between us — or is between us — it’s irrelevant. He’s no less married now than he was before.”

“You said he told you he was sleeping in another room,” Harry reminded me.

“He did, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s angry with her—”

“And it doesn’t matter because you’re not going to go back to him,” Ron interrupted. 

“Exactly,” I agreed. “We don’t work. All we do is hurt each other.”

Deep inside my chest, saying that hurt, even now. Even when I should be mourning the loss of my relationship with Blaise, the pain I felt at saying that Draco and I wouldn’t work was far more intense.

* * *

The next morning, I went to Penelope’s office, desperate to talk to someone who had no connection to the situation I was in. 

I thanked Merlin that I had made another appointment — one for just me — because I was able to settle in and get right down to it. Running through what had happened since Monday, I felt my heart racing and my voice cracking in places. 

Just like every other time I’d met with her, I paced and rambled, waiting for her to interrupt me and ask questions that would lead me in a different direction. My brain was examining every angle of the Blaise situation by the time we were done talking. As usual, she’d given me a lot to think about.

And, much to my surprise, she told me she was happy that Blaise had decided to give me space.

“I think you need it, Hermione,” she’d said. “And I’m not positive you would’ve truly taken the time that you need to deal with your feelings about Draco’s return. If you were trying to manage Blaise’s feelings and Draco’s feelings, you’d leave your own for last. You’d try to keep both of them happy, regardless of what that meant for you.”

While I’d wanted to argue, I knew she likely had a point.

After ensuring I had another appointment scheduled for Monday, I made my way back to Grimmauld. As soon as I stepped through the Floo and into the kitchen, I knew I needed to sit and write all my thoughts down. My brain was running a mile a minute, and my heart was pounding, too.

“Hermione?” Harry called, coming down the stairs with Lily in his arms. “How was the appointment?”

“Why aren’t you at the office?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to wait for you. I owled both Malfoy and Mel and told them to Floo call if they needed me earlier than midday. There’s not much to worry about at the moment.”

“The appointment was fine. I…” My voice trailed off. “I need time, I think.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Running my hands through my hair, I started to gather the strands, twisting them up into a knot on top of my head. “I’m taking today to myself,” I said, making a snap decision. “I need time to sort things out in my mind, and I can’t do that while I’m working. I think I need to just go somewhere and think and write in my journal.”

“Do you want company?”

I shook my head. “Definitely not.” At his look of concern, I added, “I swear, I just want to be alone for a little while. I’ll come back here tonight so you can see I’m okay.”

“Aren’t you supposed to meet with Malfoy tonight? Every other day, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, remembering that I hadn’t seen Draco last night. “But I can come here straight after. Penelope just — she gave me a lot to think about, and I want to do it. I fought it last time, and it took me so long to get better.”

Slowly, he started to nod, agreeing with me. “Okay. But I want to know where you’re going.”

As I thought, I chewed my cheek. There were so many possibilities, but only one appealed to me.

“I’m just going into the town near my house,” I replied. “There’s a little coffee shop there, and I’m just going to sit at one of the tables and write, I think.”

“Okay,” he said sceptically. “Can you just check in with me, please? Not all the time, but every so often.”

“If you’ll do me a favour.”

Harry looked at me, gently rocking his fussing daughter. “Depends on what it is.”

“Just tell Malfoy that I’ll meet him at six, like always.”

“Are you sure you want to see him tonight?”

“Honestly? Not at all,” I began. “But dragging this out isn’t going to make it any easier for anyone.”

“Okay. And you’ll come back for the night?”

“If you really want me to.”

Just then, little feet were on the stairs, and I turned to see who was running towards us. James appeared, nearly slamming into Harry’s legs.

“Auntie Mi! You’re home!” 

My heart swelled, and I crouched down and opened my arms to him. When he ran into them, I hugged him close. Unbidden, Blaise’s words seeped into my brain, trying to ruin this moment.

_I know you try to fill that void with Potter’s kids, but it will never be the same._

The cruelty of that statement hurt, but I knew I had to push it aside. 

Regardless of what Blaise thought, I didn’t use James and Sev to fill a void for me. No, they had their own special places in my heart, and I would never make them think otherwise. They were my godchildren.

“I’m here for a few minutes,” I said to James. “But then I have to go to my house for awhile.”

“You come back?” he asked. 

Even though I knew I should try to deal with everything on my own, I couldn’t resist his sweet question.

“I’ll be back tonight, probably right before bedtime.”

He smiled and looked to Harry. “Dad, can I have a sleepover with Auntie Mi?”

“If she wants to, that’s fine with me.”

James nodded his head. “She wants to.”

“You didn’t even ask her,” Harry pointed out, transferring Lily to his other arm. “I think you should at least ask.”

“Auntie Mi, can we?” 

I laughed. “Of course we can, my love.”

Clapping his hands, he laughed too.

And then he screeched and ran off, much like any three-year-old would.

“Pansy’s going to kill you,” Harry stated. 

Standing up straight, I shrugged. “She can try. I won’t give up time with James. He won’t always want to cuddle.”

Harry looked down at Lily. “It’s true. You only get so many years before they run off to Hogwarts or are too cool for you.”

“I think you’ve got at least a decade before she does that,” I said, teasing.

He raised her to his lips, placing a kiss on her forehead. “And that’s not nearly enough time.”

Walking over, I hugged him as close as I could without squishing Lily.

“I love you, you know.”

Smiling, he said, “I know. And I love you too. Go and do whatever you need to do. I’ll speak to Malfoy. See you later.”

With that, I dropped a kiss on Lily’s forehead, one on Harry’s cheek, and headed home.

* * *

I hadn’t ended up going into town.

Instead, I found myself sitting at my dining table, thinking everything through with an empty journal sitting in front of me. My mind kept fixating on one thing.

Last week, Draco had told me I needed to talk to Hannah about Blaise. Even though it didn’t really matter now, I kept wondering why. 

What did she know? Had Blaise told her something and then she’d told Draco?

Hannah wasn’t the type to break confidences, so it was possible that whatever she’d told Draco was perfectly innocuous and he was misconstruing it. But my mind was turning it over and over.

With a sigh, I stood and tucked my journal into my handbag. When I looked towards the Floo, I saw the blank spaces on my mantle and turned back, grabbing the otter and the dragon. I settled them into their previous positions and took a small handful of powder from the jar beside them.

Throwing it down, I said, “The Leaky Cauldron!”

Green filled my vision, the emerald flames carrying me to London.

As soon as I stepped through, I made my way over to the bar, surprised to see it vacant at this time of day. Taking a seat, I ran my fingers along the recently polished countertop, waiting for Hannah to come back.

Idly, I thought about how many times I’d been here, likely in this exact seat. Hannah had always given me a safe place to indulge in martinis and Butterbeer and wine, making sure that I didn’t leave with anyone or Apparate away. Hell, this is where I’d been the night of Draco’s stag party.

“Hermione?” 

Swivelling on the stool, I looked over at her and smiled. Her baby bump preceded her, and I could imagine Neville’s gentle hands settling over it every night, holding the woman who’d put him back together and their child at once.

“Hey,” I said, feeling myself tear up a little bit. I was happy for them and envious and confused all at the same time. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I’m tired most days,” she replied, her blue eyes showing a bit of that. “But other than that, I’ve been fine.”

I nodded and smiled at her.

“But how are you? I know it hasn’t been that long, but we didn’t really get to talk about Draco the last time I saw you.”

Inhaling deeply, I tried to steady myself. “I’m actually here to talk about Blaise.”

“What about him?” she asked as she made her way behind the bar. 

Again, I swivelled to face her. “I’ve been going through memories with Draco, starting from the first night we were together, and he told me I needed to talk to you about Blaise. Apparently you’d told him something, and he didn’t think I’d believe him if he told me.”

She bit her lip, looking nervous. “Well, let me think for a moment. I’ve spoken to him several times since he started coming around again.”

My stomach twisted as I wondered what else she might have said to him.

“I can’t remember saying much about Blaise recently, though I am so happy the two of you decided to give things a go—”

I held my hand up. “I’m going to say this fast. Blaise left. I don’t know where he is, but he’s gone.”

Shock suffused her features, her eyes widening and her lips parting. One of her hands settled over her bump and she said, “I’m so sorry, Hermione. I had no idea.”

Shaking my head, I continued, “I’m not okay right now, and I don’t want to talk about it. I just — I need to know if there’s anything he’s ever said to you that you shared with Draco.”

Hannah was uncomfortable, but I could tell she was thinking back, trying to remember any little detail.

“Well,” she began, reaching for a glass and filling it with an _Aguamenti_ , “I think I may have told him about how Blaise used to keep an eye on you when you were in here a lot. You know, after Harry and Ron got married.”

“He did?” I asked.

With a nod, she kept speaking. “Yes. There were times when men would come up to you, and he’d sort of suggest that they look elsewhere since you were usually a bit…”

“Pissed,” I answered, knowing what I was like back then. 

“So I figured Blaise had been harbouring feelings for you since then, maybe even as far back as Hogwarts.”

“What makes you think it would go all the way back to school?”

She pushed her blonde hair back from her face. “Some of the girls in Hufflepuff noticed things in sixth year. The Slytherins and the Gryffindors had always been divided, but that year, it intensified. While you lot were focusing on the upcoming war, we observed, and we noticed both Draco and Blaise. Their eyes were always on you when they thought no one was looking.”

“Well, that’s sufficiently creepy,” I mumbled. “I mean, I know Draco had feelings for me back then, but Blaise?”

And then I thought back to what Pansy had said the night before — _he told me he’d been in love with you for years._

How many years?

“I mean, I don’t know for sure,” Hannah said. “He just seemed like he was protecting you in here, like he was being noble. He was usually with another group or…”

“Or?” I asked, looking at her.

“Sara. He came in with Sara sometimes while you were here. I think there were occasionally other girls, too. I just remember her specifically.”

Of course — Sara and Hannah had been in the same house at Hogwarts, only a few years separating them. They knew each other, and she would’ve stood out.

My hurt must have shown on my face because Hannah reached out and settled her hand over mine. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

I gave her a weak smile. “Things are horrible right now. Between Blaise just fucking off and coming clean about everything to Draco, I’m spent.”

“Draco asked me about your… relationship. I told him what I suspected,” she admitted, looking guilty. “I know that was probably wrong of me, but he was a wreck after he found out, and I just—”

“It’s okay, Hannah. Really. Thank you for not mentioning it until he’d already found out,” I said, cutting her off. “I knew you probably had an idea that something had happened between us, but never thought to tell you the whole of it.”

Waving me off, she said, “How about a glass of wine? And we can talk a bit more?”

“One glass,” I told her. “No more than that. Promise me you’ll say no.”

“Okay. One glass, and you can tell me as much or as little about the Draco and Blaise situations as you want. Or I can chatter endlessly.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I appreciate each and every single review that comes my way. I am having trouble keeping up, so if I don't reply, please know that I am reading and appreciating every single one.
> 
> That being said, let me know what you think...! 💙
> 
> 🚕🚕🚕🚕🚕
> 
> PS - The journal entry in this chapter is the first thing I ever wrote for this story. It was almost two years ago at this point, and I fell in love with the idea. So, here we are...
> 
>  **Edit 1/30/21:** I will be taking today and next Saturday off from posting. I'm sorry about the short notice, but a deadline at work got moved up and I just don't have the time or energy to edit my chapters and make sure they're exactly how I want them to be. 
> 
> Chapter 46 will post on Saturday, February 13th. 
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr (@potionchemist) or Facebook (K.N. PotionChemist) for updates!


	46. Draco - 28th June 2007

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand I'm back. Sorry for the break. Life just got too crazy and this chapter and the next needed some pretty severe edits. Hopefully it's worth the wait!

For what felt like the hundredth time in an hour, I checked my watch. It was going on eleven in the morning and there had been no sign of Granger or Blaise. Potter had sent an owl to let me know he'd be in late.

My nerves were on edge; I remembered how upset she'd looked the previous night. Coupled with both Blaise and Potter being absent, my mind kept jumping to worst-case scenarios.

Was she in the hospital? A danger to herself?

Had Blaise hurt her?

He'd been so angry when he left the office yesterday.

Mel was also looking at the clock and the door intermittently, but I didn't want to speak to her about my theories. She was obviously enamoured with Zabini and wouldn't take kindly to my suspicions.

Trying to focus, I looked down at the file on my desk. Potter had given it to me the previous day, and I had been shocked to find notes in my own handwriting. It was a case I worked on before the Obliviation, and the trail had gone cold years ago. He wanted me to reopen it.

As I read, bits and pieces started to come back to me. This had been one of the last cases I'd worked on, given the dates on a lot of the notes. In June of 2005, it appeared I'd worked tirelessly on it. Reading and re-reading the witness statements, drawing webs of how the victims were connected… It was all a mess, and what I'd been trying to convey wasn't always clear.

And then the pieces clicked into place for me.

My work habits had clearly shifted in June — after Astoria told me she was pregnant. This realisation immediately brought my mind back to Granger, and the spiral started all over.

Had I thrown myself into this case because she wouldn't see me? Or because I was trying to distance myself from her? Had Astoria been watching my comings and goings more closely?

The questions were endless, and I knew it was going to be a long fucking day.

* * *

"Malfoy," Potter said as he walked through the department. "Can I see you in my office?"

Rising to my feet, I stretched and followed him to his door.

"What happened?" I asked, and after taking in his exhausted look and serious demeanour, the dread I'd been feeling all morning rose up within me again.

He unlocked the door and stepped through, gesturing for me to follow. I closed it behind me and sat in front of his desk.

"Blaise is gone," he stated, looking straight at me. "He's taken a leave of absence and I'm fairly certain he's in Italy. I don't know if he's alone but—"

I cleared my throat, interrupting him. "And Granger? Where is she?"

Sighing, he replied, "She went to therapy this morning and said she needed time and space to sort herself out."

"Did he speak to her before he left?"

Potter's jaw clenched. "No. He wrote her the worst letter I've ever read. She was a wreck all last night, even if she managed to temporarily hide most of her feelings."

My stomach dropped. I should've insisted that she let me accompany her. I'd known she was upset and then she went home to find some sort of breakup letter.

If Blaise truly loved her, he wouldn't have left her. He would've fought for her and showed her he cared every single day. He wouldn't have been a jealous fucking wanker who couldn't handle the thought of Granger being alone with me at work or showing me the memories.

But it made me wonder…

Did he know that I thought Granger was my soulmate? If I'd known, I most likely had told him.

Is that why he'd given up so easily?

And then, suddenly, I remembered that I wasn't supposed to care. However, I couldn't stop myself from digging.

"What did he say?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Hermione will if she wants to, but suffice it to say, it was horrible," he said, unpacking his work from a pouch. "She wanted me to let you know that she'll still meet you at hers around six. She's not coming into the office today."

"Understandable," I said. "Did the wanker say how long he'd be gone?"

"He left it open-ended, but I don't think he'll be able to stay away from her forever."

Honestly, I understood the feeling all too well.

Before I could reply, he spoke again. "Don't be an arse to her tonight, Malfoy. She's acting tough, but Blaise leaving... it's going to bring out her insecurities."

Thinking back to the way she'd explained herself the first time we'd gone into the Pensieve — how she'd pointed out that Potter and Weasley had left her behind — I knew he was right. Once again, she'd been left behind by someone who was supposed to love her without a proper conversation.

Granger would blame herself for his departure, even though Blaise had let his jealousy get to him. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"I'm trying to move past the anger," I told him. "But it really isn't easy for me. I want to know the whole story now, not little bit by little bit."

Potter exhaled a deep breath in a huff. "Malfoy, it's important to her that you understand why she did what she did. Yes, it was wrong, but her heart was in the right place; she genuinely wanted your son to have two loving parents."

"But that life was a lie! I could feel it from the very beginning."

"Well, she regretted what she did every single day," he stated, looking to me with a serious expression. "She may not admit it openly but—"

"I loved her," I spat, interrupting him. "I fucking loved her for years and she loved me back and I can't remember it. Imagine how you'd feel if Pansy had done this to you."

"I can't imagine it and I'm not saying you shouldn't be angry. I'm just trying to protect Hermione right now. You don't know what she was like after the Obliviation, Malfoy. She was a walking ghost. Not eating, not sleeping properly. I found her half-dead in her house at Christmas the first year."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed. "She went to Italy with Blaise and then came home. Drank herself half to death and didn't show up at my place for Christmas like she was supposed to, even though I promised the gathering would be small. When I got to her house, I found her in the living room, passed out in her own sick. That's when I brought her to St Mungo's, and she stayed there for almost a full month."

And suddenly, another mystery was solved for me. When Scorpius was born, Potter and Blaise had both been visiting a friend at the hospital. Muggle-born, a bit older than us — that was Blaise had told me, and they were both true statements.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

"She's going to Occlude and act like she's fine, just like she did when you came back to work, but she's not fine," Potter explained.

"None of us are fine. Blaise, Granger, Astoria, and I are all fucked up, and we're pulling the rest of you down with us."

"I wouldn't phrase it like that. I'm trying to pull Hermione up."

Running my hand through my hair, I felt desperate to end this conversation. I needed to process what he'd just told me. She'd told me she'd been institutionalised before we sat down together to watch the first memory, but I hadn't known when or why. I was reeling, thinking of her alone on Christmas Day, drowning herself in alcohol.

Potter was waiting for me to say something, and I was sure my feelings were written all over my face. "I'm not going to kick her when she's down. For the love of fuck, even if I'm furious with her, I still... "

I'd slipped up, my mouth running away from me since my mind was otherwise engaged. I hadn't even processed what I was saying and didn't finish the sentence, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at.

"You still love her."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, as if he actually knew me better than I knew myself. And maybe he did; I was sure he knew more about my relationship with Granger than I did at this point, even if he'd found out after the fact.

"I never said that."

"You were getting close to her before you found the photos. You still felt something."

"I'm always going to feel something," I admitted, even though I knew I shouldn't. "Did you read the note I left her in _Anima_? She's my fucking soulmate, but apparently that didn't matter to her." Potter's lips were parted in shock, and I took the opportunity to stand and get the last word. "Like I've always said, I don't deserve her. She obviously realised that after I fucked her around for a year."

"Malfoy—"

I didn't wait for him to finish speaking; I left the office, struggling to understand why I'd opened up to him at all.

* * *

A little before five-thirty, I started organising my desk. Somehow, I'd been able to block out thoughts of Granger all day after a brisk walk through the Ministry to clear my head. The whole way through, I'd been reminding myself that I had a job to do, and it didn't involve spending the day completely consumed by thoughts of the past.

Once I was focused on what I needed to accomplish in the present, I'd finally gotten through the whole case file, only pausing when Potter held an impromptu meeting to inform everyone about Blaise's leave of absence. Mel's face had fallen at the announcement, but she hadn't tried to get any more information out of me.

He stayed quiet on Granger's position change, though quite a few people already knew about it. There hadn't been an official announcement of any kind; she just left quietly, without fanfare, and I imagined she'd be more comfortable with that, anyway.

As I got ready to leave, I glanced over at Granger's door. Even though I knew she wasn't here, it was a habit. And if I was honest, I could admit I was feeling a bit strange about anyone else taking that office, especially now that I knew our relationship had really started there.

I didn't want anyone else sitting at that desk. Right now, all I could think about was how she looked sitting in her chair, smiling at me as we worked together. Or the jolt of magic I'd felt when she'd helped me learn her photo enhancing charm.

And I couldn't help but remember Granger bent over the desk, arse in the air, her fingers clutching at the opposite edge.

Now that I knew what had happened there, how could I ever seriously sit across from someone else as they talked about legal research?

I tried to move on and focus on the rest of my night, to think of literally anything else. But, given the fact that I'd be going to Granger's house, I just found myself thinking about the memories that she'd likely be showing me. She'd said they wouldn't all be shagging, but would tonight's be?

Would I be rushing home to wank again, the image of her riding me seared into my mind?

I simultaneously hoped for and dreaded that situation.

Though, if she truly was upset, I had a feeling that would be reflected in the memory she chose to show me.

Stowing everything I needed away in my pockets, I ran a hand through my hair and started moving towards the department entrance and the lifts. After pressing the button, I looked down at my shoes, lost in my own thoughts again.

Honestly, I couldn't remember the lift ride or walk through the Atrium to the Floo. My mind was racing, imagining all the ways tonight could go. I could arrive at her house to find it empty, to find her inconsolable, to find her angry.

I could find her like Potter had — unconscious and ill, the few hours she'd had alone a long enough time to get completely pissed.

Or she could be herself — a bit moody and hesitant with me, unsure of what she should do.

Taking a deep breath, I tossed in some Floo Powder and headed to her house, my heart in my throat.

* * *

The haunted, resigned look in Granger's eyes froze my blood. She wasn't looking at me, not really, but through me. The whites of her eyes were bloodshot and it looked like she hadn't slept properly. She was Occluding — that much was clear — and she had likely been crying.

Whatever Blaise had said or done, she was still upset that he had left.

And his departure was at least partially my fault, even though I hadn't really done anything but exist in his orbit.

Moving one step closer to her, I asked, "Are you sure you're feeling up to this? You look exhausted."

She shrugged. "I don't think I'm going to feel better anytime soon."

I wanted to ask her what Blaise had written in the letter but I refrained, knowing she likely wasn't ready to talk about it, especially with me.

Instead, I said, "Granger, you're going to be fine without him. You know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," she snapped, examining the woodgrain of her tabletop. "I just need a few days. I won't put my life on hold again. I did that when—"

"When you Obliviated me," I interrupted, and she looked up at me, her lips parted and ready to retort. "I wasn't telling you to take all the time in the world, but you could put me off for a night if you needed to rest."

"It won't make these memories any easier to get through, Malfoy," she replied. "This is different than the others. It's not just fucking and jealousy."

Like I'd thought, she'd chosen a memory to mirror her mood.

As she held her wand to her temple, she closed her eyes and I let myself examine her more closely.

Definitely exhausted and stressed. There were signs of sadness, but she hadn't been sobbing. She was dressed like she'd been out and about all afternoon.

Just like the previous day, I wanted to comfort her, even though I was still angry. I had a feeling that this inner conflict would be my new normal.

"Why are you staring?" she asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I pressed my fingers against my eyes.

"Sorry. I was just — I'm sorry." Salazar, I sounded like an idiot. "I'm ready when you are, Granger."

She gestured to the Pensieve, not offering any explanation of what we'd be watching. As my hand moved towards the surface of the memory, she thrust hers in, disappearing a second before me.

When we materialised again, I realised we were in her bedroom and our memory selves were naked, wrapped around each other in the bed. It was clear that she'd skipped the shagging this time around.

This moment was intimate — the calm after the storm. Their skin was still flushed and traces of sweat glistened in the flickering light of the candles lit around the room. In the background, rain pounded against the roof and the window panes.

_"Why didn't you ever approach me? Ask me out?" memory Granger asked, her hand stroking across memory Draco's bare chest._

As the seconds passed, silence filled the room and the tension between them grew. Memory Hermione started to shift, pulling away, and memory Draco's arm tightened around her.

_"Honestly, Granger, I don't have a good reason," my past self began_ _, knowing he had to say something_ _. "I've told you that I've always wanted you. I can't tell you exactly when it started, but I think Pansy would say fifth year. Probably Blaise, too."_

_"You were a total arse in fifth, Draco. You took points off me for being a Mudblood."_

I was happy to see that memory Granger hadn't let me off the hook easily; it made her seem more like the girl I'd known — and fallen half in love with — at Hogwarts. Glancing to my right, I saw that present Granger was shifting from foot to foot, nearly squirming with discomfort.

_Memory Draco rolled to his side, keeping his arm tucked beneath memory Granger's head. Looking into her eyes, he said, "I know. I was in denial._ _I think_ _I wanted you to hate me so that you'd never be an option." His hand moved to her cheek, the pad of his thumb stroking against her skin. "You know what things were like that year. My father was one of Umbridge's biggest supporters."_

_Scoffing, memory Hermione snapped, "Figures he'd like that toad."_

_He laughed in response. "I know. He's never had the best taste."_

_"So what was it about fifth year?"_

_"A lot of things. Everything, really. From the beginning of that year, it was clear that you weren't going to put up with anyone's shit," memory Draco explained. "You slammed the door to the train compartment in my face and told me off for bullying first years the very first day."_

_Memory Hermione smiled. "I'm not sure who thought it was a good idea to make you a Prefect. Theo would've been the sensible choice."_

_Pinching her side, memory Draco continued, "If I recall correctly, you — also a Prefect — permanently disfigured a girl's face that year."_

_"I suppose that's true. But you joined the Inquisitorial Squad and made Harry out to be a nutter all year."_

The gentle teasing, the back and forth, was unlike anything Granger had shown me thus far. I could tell that we had been careful with each other's feelings and lessened the seriousness of this conversation on purpose. Our history was a minefield and we always seemed to stand on opposite sides.

The fact that we'd somehow ended up in the middle of it, together, was a miracle in and of itself.

Memory Granger hitched her thigh over his hip, moving closer.

_"I don't think you need me to explain why," he answered, his hand moving to her lower back. "My family was in the thick of things and my father had told me to toe the line very carefully._ _The Dark Lord didn't want anyone to know he was back, so I had to go along with what Umbridge was saying._ _"_

Present Granger paused the memory and I looked over at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I should've asked you before. I'm so caught up in my own thoughts today..."

"Asked me what?"

"We're going to talk about the war. Everything about it. Are you okay with that?" she murmured, twisting her hands nervously.

Considering her question, I looked over to our memory selves. I'd clearly already opened up to her. There would be no new information revealed by watching this memory.

"I'm fine with it. Will it bother you?"

She shook her head. "It's not all that bad for me."

"Do I say something embarrassing?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't think so," she answered. "I don't remember every bit of conversation."

"It's fine, Granger. I obviously already told you my deepest, darkest secrets."

The memory resumed.

_"It's just hard for me to believe, you know?" memory Granger said, her chin tilting up so she could look memory Draco in the eyes. "That you_ _had_ _feelings_ _for me_ _and_ _were_ _still acting so foul."_

_"I know. I wish I hadn't been that way." His hand drifted up to cup her cheek again. "I wish I had been brave enough to come to your side, but my family—"_

_Memory Granger kissed him, cutting him off. "I wish you had, too. So many things could've been different."_

I could see the look of hope in memory Draco's eyes. He had taken her words to mean that they could've had a relationship back then, that maybe they'd be together now. Even if she hadn't said it outright, I knew exactly what he was thinking and feeling.

After all, I was currently having the same thoughts. How one small choice in fifth year could've changed the course of my whole life.

_"I guess I have something similar," memory Granger continued. "I noticed how ill you looked in sixth year. I was concerned, even_ _though_ _Harry was convinced that you were up to no good."_

_"Well, he wasn't wrong," memory Draco stated, kissing her forehead. "I love that you try to see the good in people, but it doesn't always exist._ _My actions were_ _horrible that year."_

_"But if someone had approached you and tried to help you… Me, for instance—"_

_"I probably would've pushed you away, regardless of what I felt for you," he replied honestly. "I kept Snape at bay. All my friends, too."_

_Snuggling closer, memory Granger said, "That must have been lonely. And so hard for you."_

I saw his arms tighten around her, desperate to hold on to her now, especially through this difficult conversation. Again, I could imagine what he was thinking — every single difficult moment had led him to this point where she was his, where they were entwined together.

_"It was, but I survived."_

_"I understand that feeling," memory Hermione said quietly. "I told myself that a lot after the war. I survived."_

_Memory Draco shifted, making sure he was looking her in the eyes. "I could apologise a thousand times for Malfoy Manor, and it would never be enough." He smoothed her hair back, and she leaned into the touch. "You weren't disguised and neither was Weasley. I couldn't—everyone knew who you were."_

_"I know, Draco. I forgave you a long time ago. I wouldn't be here_ _with you_ _otherwise."_

_"And you still testified for me," he said, his voice incredulous. "I let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, was a full-fledged Death Eater myself, identified you to my insane aunt, and you still—" His voice cracked. "I never understood why."_

_Before answering him, memory Granger leaned in and kissed him sweetly. "You never had a choice, Draco. Just like I didn't choose to be born to Muggle parents, and Harry didn't choose the path Voldemort put him on. I didn't want to see anyone our age punished for their actions in the war. We were all children divided up solely by who our parents were."_

_"I know you're not going to say it back, but I love you, Granger," memory Draco replied. "I love everything about you, but your heart — it's incredible. And your mind, it works so differently from everyone else's."_

_She gave him a sly smirk. "Just my heart and my mind, then?"_

Memory Granger's hips rocked, rolling into memory Draco's beneath the sheet. Despite the intimate gesture, he shook his head.

_"We're not done talking," he protested_ _, grabbing her and stilling her movements_ _. "As much as I fucking love your body, this is important. I need you to know—"_

_Cutting him off with a sweet kiss, she said, "Tell me everything._ _I want to know every last detail._ _"_

_"I've been a mess since the day I was marked," memory Draco confessed, looking into her eyes. "I was always afraid of something happening to my mother or my father being kissed in Azkaban. And the Mark — it's not just a tattoo, which I'm sure you know. It would burn to summon me, and I would be terrified that my mother would be dead at his feet. After I saw Nagini eat Professor Burbage…" He shuddered, his whole body shaking at the memory. "I thought it would be me or one of my parents next._ _I can't even begin to describe what that kind of fear did to me._ _"_

Reaching for his arm, memory Granger ran her fingertips over the Mark, tracing the snake and skull like she knew them intimately.

And, in a way, I supposed she did; it seemed like she was completely comfortable touching every inch of memory Draco's skin.

Beside me, present Granger was watching with an air of detachment, her mind completely sectioned off from what was happening in front of us.

_"I can't even imagine," memory Hermione said. "Although, that's why I Obliviated and hid my parents."_

_Memory Draco pulled his arm away so he could stroke her hair again. "I read about that in the paper. Have you ever been able to correct it?"_

Just as I knew she would, memory Granger shook her head.

_"No. I stopped trying after the first year. It was expensive, and we risked doing permanent damage_ _to their minds. I have healers visit them twice a year to see if they remember anything, but it's never changed. I've gone to Australia a few times, as well._ _"_

_"Have you kept up-to-date on Memory Charms_ _since then_ _?"_

_"Not really," she answered. "I… It hurts, to know that I did this to them. That I changed their lives forever. It was only supposed to be a few months, and now it's been years."_

_Memory Draco leaned forwards and kissed her forehead, somehow pulling her closer. "I'm sorry, Granger. I wish things hadn't been so bad that you had to do that."_

_"Everyone knew I was Harry's best friend," memory Granger said, tears escaping her eyes. "I didn't have a choice. I didn't want them to be killed."_

_"Of course not," he said, tucking her face flush against his chest. "I'm so happy you protected them. The Dark Lord knew you were with Potter, Granger. He sent Death Eaters to your parents' house._ _The address_ _was on record with the Ministry and Hogwarts."_

_"I know. I went back after the war. There wasn't much left."_

Seeing everything — hearing this conversation — was hard for me. I was talking so openly, being there for her in a way that I'd never really been there for anyone before. We were trading secrets and stories, the superficial sexual relationship shifting into something more serious.

Again, he ran a hand through her curls, stroking her head and remaining silent. However, the silence that filled the room wasn't uncomfortable.

When memory Granger spoke again, she was quiet. _"I've felt so alone since the end of the war_ _._ _This is the first time that I feel like someone really understands how hard it was for me to do something so horrible."_

_"Horrible?"_

_A sniffle escaped her. "Yes. After everything they'd done for me and how accepting they'd been of the magic and my place in that world—"_

_"Stop," memory Draco said. "It's not like you did it to push them out of your life, Hermione. They were in danger."_

_"I know, but that doesn't make me feel any better. They're never going to remember that they have a child," memory Granger cried_ _, letting all of her emotions show_ _. "You don't know what it meant to them. They tried to get pregnant with me for over five years, and I just made them think that it never happened—"_

_"You did what you had to do to protect the people you loved," he interrupted, kissing the crown of her head while he held her close. "I'm sure you'd say that to me if I was blaming myself for Dumbledore's death."_

I glanced over at present Granger. She was watching me, likely gauging my reaction, and I said, "I still think you did the right thing."

She shrugged. "I obviously didn't learn my lesson the first time around. The guilt… It was worse when it came to you, especially since I remembered conversations like this one."

The memory was silent, save for the occasional kissing or shifting sound. They remained entwined and I watched, longing to remember what it actually _felt_ like to have her in my arms, to hold her close like that.

But of course I couldn't. I would never truly remember how it felt to have her skin warming mine, her breath on my bare chest.

_"We could research it," memory Draco said, breaking the silence. "It's possible that you and I could find a way to reverse the memory alteration."_

I saw memory Granger wiggling upwards so she could look him in the eyes.

_"No. I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "You're—This isn't a real—"_

_"Don't say it," he pleaded. "Please, Granger. It's real for me. I told you that in Mykonos."_

_"But you're going to leave."_

Her statement was quiet but definite, her meaning written all over her face. Memory Draco always left her, though I wasn't sure how he managed it when she looked at him like that.

_"Not tonight." Kissing her, memory Draco tried to claim her lips. "I'm staying. I want to be here with you."_

_Memory Granger bit down on her bottom lip. "Okay. You can stay."_

_"But we're going to talk more," he told her. "I was serious — I think we can figure out the memory modification."_

_She shook her head. "Really, I don't want to, Draco. It's been so long now. They would hate me if they knew—"_

_"Do you really think so? Because, as someone who's in your life, I can honestly say that it would be really hard for me to hate you."_

"Bet you've changed your mind on that one," present Granger interjected, looking down at her shoes. "If there was ever any question on how my parents would've felt, it's been answered for me now."

I didn't know how to respond. I'd told Blaise that I hated her. I constantly thought that I hated her. But, when it really came down to it, I wasn't sure. Deep down, I knew I hated that she'd taken years away from me, stolen my memories of her and the relationship that would've meant the world to me.

But could I truly _hate_ her?

My eyes roamed over her body from head to toe, and I felt the same pull towards her that I'd felt my whole life. I wanted her with every fibre of my being, but I wouldn't give in again.

She'd ruined whatever it was we'd had.

Or I'd ruined it when I got Astoria pregnant.

Either way, that relationship was gone now, especially for me.

_"You don't know them," memory Granger replied, her voice becoming hysterical. "Like I said, they wanted a child so badly and I just… They had me, and then I was a witch and I was gone for most of the year, and then I completely removed myself. If they remembered everything and hated me, I wouldn't survive it."_

A lump formed in my throat.

_"You would," memory Draco reassured her. "You're the strongest person I've ever met. They would forgive you eventually, and I'd be there for you every step of the way."_

And regardless of what had happened, I still thought that was true. Granger was still standing, even after life had knocked her back again and again. The misfortune of being Muggle-born during Voldemort's reign, being Potter's best friend through the whole mess, her failed relationship with Weasley, her loneliness, the things I'd done to her… Now Blaise's abandonment, as well.

Again, memory Granger bit her lip, likely holding back the comments about how I couldn't possibly be there for her with a wife at home.

_"Can we drop it for tonight?"_ _she_ _asked._

_"Only if you promise to think about it," memory Draco answered. "I'm not saying we have to do it now, but I think we should try to find a way."_

_"I'll consider it," she said carefully. "This isn't a promise, Malfoy. I just — I can't say whether or not I'll ever want to do it."_

My past self sealed their conversation with a kiss, gripping her thigh and hiking it higher before rolling her onto her back and settling between her legs.

_"Consideration is sufficient for now," he breathed against her lips._

* * *

When we landed back in Granger's sitting room, I felt cheated. Just as the usual show was about to start, I'd been ripped from it.

I realised that I shouldn't think of it that way; she hadn't meant for tonight's memory to be sexually charged. She'd wanted to get our conversation about the war and her parents' Obliviation out in the open.

Honestly, I had no idea what to say now that we were back in the present. I decided to start with the easiest part.

"How long did it take you to agree to researching Memory Charms?" I asked, making eye contact with her.

She shrugged. "A few months, I think. We started right after Christmas. I… I got a letter from the healers I told you about. They finally gave up and said there was no point in them continuing to check in. That's when I agreed to it. We talked about it again."

"And during this research… Did we find anything valuable?"

Granger sighed. "Look, all we found was that the charm I'd used was likely irreversible because it had modified nearly eighteen years of memories all at once. Yes, there were less of them once I started at Hogwarts, but it was too much."

"That's all we found? In nine months?"

"Things between us changed, Draco. As soon as Astoria got pregnant, our time was more limited," she explained. "But our research did get me thinking about how to make Memory Charms less permanent if the situation called for it. That's how… Well, it's how I came up with the idea—"

"To remove rather than modify," I interrupted, anger simmering inside my chest. "Like you did for me."

With a nod, she continued, "Yes. I mean, there are a few that were modified. The ones about Astoria. But mainly, they were just removed."

My eyes darted to the trunk on the table. "Why are we watching yours, by the way? Wouldn't it be easier to see things through my own eyes?"

Her fingers danced around the edge of the Pensieve, looking down on our past selves entwined on the bed, waiting for someone else to enter the memory.

"I want you to see things from my perspective," she said quietly. "Maybe that's selfish, but I didn't—This wasn't easy for me. I need you to know why I didn't fight for you."

"Other than Scorpius?"

"Other than Scorpius." Granger cautiously glanced up, examining me like she was trying to decide if she should ask me something or not. Something on my face reassured her. "How is he?"

For a moment, I didn't realise who she was asking about. She hadn't yet asked me about my son. My tongue darted out, wetting my lips before I started to speak. "He's doing well. He was a little out-of-sorts when I wasn't living at home, but he seems better now."

"Good," she answered. "I'm glad that you and Astoria are working things out."

I couldn't tell if she was fishing for information or if she simply meant we'd sorted out a schedule for Scorpius, but I didn't want to get into a loaded conversation about my relationship with Astoria. I'd told her that I was sleeping in a separate bedroom, but everything felt so different now that Blaise wasn't looming over us.

For the first time in my life, she felt entirely within my reach. I knew I'd had her before, and that certainly helped, but now…

I didn't think I could trust her.

Maybe that would change over time. Maybe I'd eventually understand why she'd Obliviated me. I knew I had been a horrible person — keeping a wife and a mistress for over a year — but there must have been another way forward.

The silence had gone on too long, so I broke it.

"Can I ask you something now?"

"Anything," she replied, sounding like she really meant it. "I'm an open book, so to speak."

That made me smile.

"Why didn't you just tell Potter about my father's threats?"

Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she tried to figure out how to phrase her response.

"A lot of reasons, I guess."

Her answer was frustrating, but I pressed her. "Give me something. One reason, other than Scorpius."

"Honestly? Guilt."

"Guilt?"

"Being the other woman isn't pleasant, Draco. I'd always been the type to support other females, and there I was, sleeping with another woman's husband. It didn't matter that we were in love—"

I cut her off. "I understand what you're saying. I'm sure you were also angry with me a lot."

"I was," Granger confirmed. "You told me all about how you'd been in love with me for years on more than one occasion, but you never acted on it. I spent so much time angry that you'd never found the courage to just let go of the past and approach me. I'd always been friendly towards you."

"Why did you fall in love with me?" I blurted, unable to stop myself.

So far, I hadn't seen any reason for her to, other than great sex.

She looked down at the Pensieve again, examining the scene.

"Can we save that one for a few days from now?" she asked, her voice shaky. "I think it'll be pretty obvious after the next two memories."

Even though she'd piqued my curiosity even more, I only nodded.

"Well, if there's nothing else…"

Her voice had trailed off, and I knew she was waiting for me to say something. I just didn't know what.

_I'm sorry I never put you first?_

_I'm sorry that I got Astoria pregnant and hurt you so badly?_

No, that wasn't true — I wouldn't give up Scorpius for anything now that he was here.

_I'm sorry that Blaise hurt you too?_

_It hurts me to see you hurting like this?_

That was closer to what I was feeling.

"I think that's all for tonight," I replied, keeping things as simple as possible. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Granger shook her head. "No. I'm going to owl Kingsley and let him know I'm taking tomorrow and next week off. I'm seeing my therapist and trying to sort my life out a bit before I start in the Department of Mysteries."

I felt my chest tighten and my throat swell, keeping all the words I wanted to say from escaping.

_But I'm not ready for you to go._

_I like seeing you every day._

_I don't want anyone else in your office, in the space that was once ours._

_Once we're done with the memories, will I ever see you again?_

"Well, I'm sure the time off will be nice."

She forced a smile. "I think so."

"So… Saturday, then. Same time?"

Nervously, Granger said, "We could have dinner. I could show you some things from the trunk. You know, before we watch."

My heart sped up at the thought of some extra time, a few more mementos from our past. Whatever she showed me might help to connect some more dots, fill in the gaps.

"I think I'd like that," I replied, not giving myself the chance to overthink it.

Her breath left her in a huff, and I realised she'd been holding it all in. She was just as nervous as I was.

"Okay," she stated. "I'll see you around six? Or should it be earlier? I don't know how long you'll have."

"As long as we need. Six is fine, Granger."

When I looked at the mantle, the otter and the dragon were back in place, observing her sitting area.

I tried to push down the hopeful feeling that they gave me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading! Your comments are all wonderful and mean the world to me.
> 
> I'll have a Valentine's short story popping up tomorrow. Keep an eye out!
> 
> Thank you to my team for putting up with my crazy as I tear chapters that have been written for months apart and make them re-edit them. You guys are the best.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for updates!


	47. Draco, 29th-30th June 2007

On Friday, the hours in the Auror office dragged by. Throughout the day, I’d intermittently looked up at the clock and at Granger’s closed office door, wondering how she was feeling today. By the time six in the evening arrived, I was well and truly losing it. Being cooped up in this place was driving me mental.

Gathering up my belongings, I thought of her dinner invitation for tomorrow and wondered if I should bring wine. If I was going to do that, I would have to sneak it out of the house like a bloody teenager. Astoria would jump to all sorts of conclusions and I wasn’t equipped to handle that quite yet, even if we’d both admitted our marriage was over.

I quickly strode towards the lift, hoping that no one would stop me. Scorpius would be awaiting my arrival, and I didn’t want to disappoint him, especially since I’d be out of the house for longer than usual the next evening.

As soon as I stepped out of the fireplace in my kitchen, I saw Astoria sitting at the table, dolled up and looking annoyed. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was ignoring the racket that Scorpius was making. He was banging utensils on pots and pans and I couldn’t imagine why we even had those things in the first place; neither of us really knew how to cook.

“You’re late,” she snapped.

“By ten minutes,” I replied, looking down at her. “Where are you off to?”

Her expression was sullen and her voice mirrored that. “Daphne and I are having dinner with our parents and then we’re going out. Theo Nott reserved a booth for us at his club.”

“You’re going out to a club? Why?”

“What do you care, Draco? It’s not like you even speak to me when we’re home together,” Astoria stated. “I take care of Scorpius all day. I think the least you could do is spend one night a week with him on your own—”

“I’m here every single night,” I hissed, leaning closer to her. “I take care of him and put him to bed. I haven’t walked out on either of you. If you have somewhere to be while I’m at work, my mother would be more than happy to take him.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking to her now?”

I felt a tug on my trousers. When I glanced down, I saw Scorpius, concern in his clear blue eyes. 

“Dada?”

Bending down, I lifted him into the air and kissed his cheeks. I settled him on my hip and turned back to Astoria. 

“We’ll finish this conversation when we’re alone. Of course I’ll take care of him tonight.”

Astoria rose, adjusting the dress that I had no doubt would be magically altered after dinner with her parents. Once she was eye level with me — in tall heels no doubt — I got a good look at her face. She was wearing makeup, but I could tell she was exhausted. There were still hints of dark circles under her eyes.

“Why bother lying, Draco? We’re not going to continue any conversations. You’re out every other night, and I know you’re already half in love with  _ her _ again.”

The way she spat the word ‘her’ made it clear who she was talking about.

“That’s not true,” I replied quickly, my heart rate starting to pick up. “I’m angry with her.”

“Well, at least she gets that.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she wobbled slightly, using the table to catch herself. For a moment, I wondered if she was already a little drunk. After grabbing her bag, she added, “I barely even get a reaction out of you for anything anymore.”

“Astoria—”

She waved her free hand before stepping into the Floo.

“Goodnight, Draco. Don’t wait up.”

After she vanished, I turned to face Scorpius. “Well, little man, I guess it’s just the two of us tonight.”

I noticed he was staring at the place where Astoria had been and I felt terrible. She hadn’t even kissed him goodbye because I’d been holding him.

What damage would she and I do to him by living together but not being together?

* * *

Spending the night with Scorpius brought me back to the days before I’d returned to work. 

We had a quick dinner and I gave him a bath, letting him splash and play until he was a prune. His laughs and shrieks calmed me and occupied my mind in a way that nothing else had in weeks, and I resolved to spend more time with him.

My life had been so tumultuous for the past ten days and, even though I’d been helping with bedtimes, I hadn’t been fully present. Unfortunately, thoughts of Granger invaded my mind around the clock.

After the bath, I dressed him and carried him into my bedroom, settling down on the bed with his new favourite book —  _ George the Unicorn and His Missing Ear _ by Luna Weasley. As I turned the pages, I realised that George the Unicorn was actually George Weasley. He played pranks on the other animals in the Forbidden Forest and loved fireworks.

Thinking back, I remembered the day he and his twin had set fireworks loose in the castle and I chuckled to myself. In homage to that day, the book ended with an evil toad frantically hopping away from a pink cat one of the fireworks had spawned, to be continued.

Loony Lovegood certainly had a way with words.

Scorpius had fallen asleep partway through the story, but I kept reading, picking out who each character in the book was modeled after. I laughed more than I had in quite some time.

Of course, Hermione had been in the story, as well. She’d been a long-haired cat, pacing back and forth in front of a dragon egg, guarding it. It wasn’t clear what from, but I realised that Loony truly saw more than anyone gave her credit for.

* * *

As soon as Scorpius was settled and soundly asleep in his cot, I went into my bedroom. It was far too early for me to go to sleep, but I needed to stay close by. I looked around, knowing I needed to move more of my things from the master bedroom into this one but couldn’t find the motivation.

And then I noticed the box in the corner and remembered what it contained.

The books — the ones that likely contained notes from Granger. 

Summoning the box, I set it down and took a deep breath. Between Blaise’s departure and the heavy memory we’d viewed last night, I’d forgotten all about it. For the past two weeks, every single hour that passed had felt like an eternity, and it was getting exhausting.

Slowly, I removed the lid and looked down, finding magically shrunk and lightened books. Reaching in, I grabbed the first one and it examined it closely. As soon as it was out of the box, it had changed to its original size and my fingers traced the edges of the cover.

_ One of the first magical worlds I loved. I hope you enjoy it, too. -H.G. _

_ The symbology in this book reminds me of runes. It’s funny how both Muggle and magical worlds look for meanings and assign most of the same things. -H.G. _

I flipped open one after another, finding a lot of impersonal notes — nothing like what I’d written in hers. There were no dates, nothing to indicate which came first or last, so I kept opening them and casting Revealing Charms.

Finally, there was something.

_ Thank you for Mykonos. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had. Can’t wait to get away again. _

Like a man possessed, I grabbed the next one.

_ The war is long over. Let it all go and forgive yourself. Almost everyone else has already. You don’t need to keep punishing yourself. _

_ I wish every weekend could be like last weekend. Paris was perfect, and I love you. I can’t wait to go back to our little hotel. _

My fingertips skimmed over the words. 

Paris.

The first time I’d gone to Paris after the Obliviation, I’d recognised a hotel and Astoria had told me we’d stayed there before. 

Had we? Or had it been from my time with Hermione?

These little notes were so vague without the memories attached to them, but I kept going, looking for even the tiniest scrap of information that could show how our relationship had progressed.

But it was all mostly little invitations or details.

Finally, I opened one book and found a long quote penned on the cover page, attributed to Louis de Bernieres.

_ When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is.  _

I stopped for a moment, wondering if she’d been trying to tell me to make a choice without saying it outright. In hindsight, I thought it was likely, and I’d either been too blind to see it or I hadn’t told her that I’d made a choice and was trying to find a way out of the marriage, not wanting to get her hopes up.

Sighing, I closed the book and rubbed at my eyes. 

If only I could make a timeline of how things had happened and how these books fit into it, maybe I could understand. But without all my memories, I was at Granger’s mercy.

I’d hurt her for a long time — that much was clear — but by the last memory she’d shown me, my past self had no idea that she was actually in love with me. I knew now, and I could see how obvious it was, but back then, I’d seemed so unsure of where she stood.

By the time I cracked the last cover, I still had no idea when things had changed for her. As I packed all the books back into the magical storage box, I tried to quiet my mind, to make her face disappear.

But, once again, she was all I could see.

* * *

_ “Draco!” Granger shrieked, her body writhing on red sheets, my mouth between her thighs. “Oh Gods!” _

_ Her hands were tangled in my hair, tugging it to the point of pain, but I didn’t care. I sucked her clit harder, crooked my fingers inside of her, made her want more. _

_ Even as her cunt clenched around my fingers, she was begging for more, begging me to keep going. _

_ She keened and whined, arched off the bed. Her legs shook and her hands moved to her breasts, but I kept at it, loving the way her hips bucked up towards my face and the taste of her on my tongue— _

A very tiny hand slapped against my cheek, waking me and pulling me from Granger’s bedroom.

“Dada?”

I huffed out a breath, rubbing my palms over my face. I’d been having a sex dream. A very intense, very graphic sex dream while my toddler was right beside me. I suppose that was my punishment for going to bed with her on my mind.

“Good morning, Scorp,” I said, my voice gruff. “How did you get out of your cot?”

He made an exaggerated little shrug and smiled.

“Alright, well, let’s get up.”

He held out his hand and I sat up, debating whether or not it was appropriate for me to walk around the house with my dick harder than stone. I didn’t really have a choice at the moment, so I adjusted myself and stood. Before taking Scorpius’ hand, I slid on jogging bottoms and a t-shirt.

“What shall we do?” I asked him and he looked up at me.

“Hungy,” he said.

I nodded and picked him up, not ready to watch him toddle down the stairs.

“Okay. Let’s see what we can get for breakfast,” I answered, noticing that Astoria’s bedroom door was still closed. 

As we stepped into the kitchen, I was shocked to see my mother sitting at the dining table.

I prayed that the jogging bottoms were loose enough to hide my… situation.

She smiled at the sight of us.

“My two favourite wizards,” she said teasingly, getting to her feet. “Do you need me to take him, Draco?”

“We’re fine, but if you want to—”

She snatched him from my arms and pressed kisses all over his face.

“Grandmother and grandfather have missed you so much!”

For a moment, I felt guilty, but then I let it all go. While I made my way to the coffee pot, she listened to Scorpius babble and summoned Flora, asking her to bring breakfast for Scorpius and me.

Once I had my coffee brewing, I rubbed my hands over my face and said, “What are you doing here, Mother?”

She turned and raised an eyebrow. 

“I haven’t exactly been speaking with you or Father so I know I didn’t invite you, and you’ve never dropped in unannounced before,” I replied.

Looking chastened, she sat down again, holding Scorpius on her lap. “I know, Draco. And I know you said you weren’t ready to talk yet, but I’m not speaking to your father. The quiet on both fronts is driving me mad.” 

“I never asked you to stop speaking to Father,” I began, “so if you’re giving him the silent treatment on my account, there’s no need. Especially since it’s nearly two years too late.”

Scorpius wriggled and whined, wanting to roam around freely. Reluctantly, she lowered him to the floor.

“Believe it or not, I do realise I should’ve done this long ago, but it seemed like everything was set in stone already, and it physically pains me to ignore your father,” she explained, looking down at her hands. “I’m not saying that makes it right, and I’m not proud of the choices that any of us have made over the past three years, but we need to start somewhere. You know as well as I do that your father is more likely to wisen up if I withhold my attention.”

It was too early for me to even think about the implications of that statement.

“Please don’t elaborate,” I said, bending down to pick Scorpius up. I brought him to his highchair and summoned his cup, filling it with some water and a splash of juice. “I’m still not ready to talk about everything that’s happened.”

She waved me off. “Then we won’t yet. I have something else I want to discuss with you.”

“Oh?” 

“I received a very interesting owl this morning.”

Making my way back towards the coffee pot, I sighed. “You obviously think I need to know whatever information this owl brought you, so out with it.”

“Apparently, there was a strange visitor to the Flint estate last night. The wards alerted Marcus’ mother.”

Immediately, my mind jumped to Granger, but then I realised that didn’t make any sense. Granger wouldn’t sleep with Flint and, even if she did, no one would owl my mother about it. That left only one option.

_ Astoria _ .

“Is she still there?” I asked. 

My mother nodded. “It seems she put on quite the vocal performance. Woke half the house. How they didn’t think to use Silencing Charms, I’ll never know.”

“And how did they know it was Astoria? Did they see her?”

With a laugh, she said, “Oh, Draco. There are monitoring charms for that kind of thing. Your bedroom in the Manor had one on it, as well.”

I felt the colour drain from my face. “What?”

“For when you were a teenager,” she added. “It’s an old-fashioned tradition, but any time a non-related female entered the bedchamber of the heir, an alert was sent. It was to ensure that no bastards were sired.”

“That’s disgusting and an invasion of privacy.”

My mother waved it off like it was just a normal, everyday thing. “You know the old ways just as well as I do.”

“Doesn’t make it any less wrong,” I answered, rolling my eyes. “Marcus is nearly thirty. Why does she still monitor who he’s sleeping with?”

“I’ve no idea. You would think he’d have put a stop to it when his father died. He must control the wards now.”

“I know I would’ve,” I mumbled. “Bloody fucking embarrassing to know your mum can find out who you’ve been shagging.”

Raising an eyebrow at me, my mother said, “Charlotte just wanted to let me know that you might want to perform a paternity test if Astoria ends up with child. I think she might be hoping it happens since she doesn’t yet have a grandchild.”

My eyes widened. “You don’t think—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I know Astoria wouldn’t try to pass that off. I’m assuming you haven’t had sex?”

“Well, you certainly have no boundaries,” I replied, shaking my head. I turned to the coffee pot and summoned a mug. “Of course we haven’t had sex since I found out about the Obliviation.”

“You should probably keep it that way, especially now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Mainly because my dreams were all featuring Granger again, but I wasn’t going to bring that into the open with how my mother was behaving this morning.

Just then, Flora popped into the kitchen and snapped her fingers. A full breakfast buffet landed on the dining table. 

“Can I stay? To see what she says when she comes through the Floo?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Do I really have a choice? You showed up unannounced and you’re like a bloody teenager at the moment.”

She sat primly and helped herself to the fruit platter. “I’m not acting any different from usual. I just don’t want her to lie to you and she won’t if I’m here.”

“Mother, I know you enjoy gossip, but you’re not normally this open about it. And you’d usually do anything you can to cover up a family scandal.”

She held her fork up and pointed it at me. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, I’ve done enough covering up for Astoria and your father to last a lifetime. I won’t do it again. You’re my son and you deserve the truth. I should have realised that a very long time ago.”

While I knew she was trying to win my forgiveness, I found she didn’t have to. It didn’t matter that she’d covered for my father and Astoria and Granger; she was my mother, and I would always forgive her. Through the war and the aftermath, she and I had looked out for each other more often than not.

Rather than replying, I simply nodded and reached for the platter of bacon and eggs.

“So, are you seeing Hermione tonight?” 

As much as I wanted to avoid talking about Granger, I knew she wouldn’t drop it. I checked on Scorpius quickly; Flora had given him bite-size pieces of all his favourites.

“I am,” I answered. “I have to go to her place around six. She’s… Well, she’s making dinner. Or getting takeaway. I’m not really sure if she cooks.”

She suppressed her smile. “Have you had dinner together before now?”

“Well, obviously,” I stated dryly. “We did have a relationship—”

“You know what I mean!” 

I shook my head and sighed. “No. We haven’t. But now that Blaise is gone—”

“Blaise is gone?” 

Fuck. I’d given her another piece of gossip to fixate on.

“He took a leave of absence. Potter thinks he’s in Italy.”

Dabbing at her mouth with a serviette, my mother said, “That was quicker than I thought it would be. Did Hermione break up with him?”

“From what I understand, no.” She gave me a quizzical look, so I continued, “He wrote her a letter and left.”

“A letter? He didn’t even bother to speak to her?” 

“I guess not. She hasn’t really told me much about it.”

“You should ask her how she is and make sure she’s okay when you’re with her tonight,” she stated, taking a sip of tea. “This might be difficult for her to handle.”

“I saw her yesterday. She was… not okay, but definitely not as upset as I would’ve thought.”

“Of course she wasn’t very upset. She didn’t really love him.”

I swallowed and ran a hand through my fringe. “I don’t care if she did.”

“Please stop lying to me, Draco. It’s insulting,” my mother said. “And lying to yourself is unhealthy.”

My jaw was clenching, along with my fist on top of the table. 

“Fine. I cared, but that doesn’t matter. Things between us aren’t good and, according to her, they never really were.”

She frowned. “What do you mean things aren’t good?”

“I told you I wasn’t ready to talk about this—”

“You need to talk to someone,” she stated, narrowing her eyes at me. “I can’t imagine you’re going to speak to Astoria about it.”

The jumble of emotions I’d been feeling — the jealousy, the attraction, the anger, the undeniable pull I felt towards — all swirled inside of me. 

I leaned my elbows on the table and kept my eyes cast down. “I’ve said I hate her more times than I can count, along with a bunch of other horrible things. And sometimes I do feel like I hate her. I hate this whole situation, and she’s at the very centre of it.”

She didn’t say anything.

“But I’m also slowly figuring out that I made really fucked up decisions. I never told her I was trying to get a divorce, not in any real way,” I continued. “And I don’t even know when or why I made the decision to go to the solicitor.”

“You could ask him,” she offered, tapping her fingernails on the tabletop. “I didn’t ask for details when I spoke to his assistant and got the paperwork.”

“I know, but I want to actually remember it.” The frustration I was feeling was evident in my voice. “And I want to know when things changed for Granger, but she hasn’t gotten to that point in memories yet.”

My mother stood up and moved closer to me, settling a hand on my shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but the contact soothed me; it had been awhile since anyone but Scorpius had touched me.

“Please try to hear me out,” she began, speaking softly. “You need to be careful with what you say in anger. Telling her you hate her… You’re going to hurt her even more, and she’s been through enough because of our family. I’m not telling you to forgive her right away, but don’t turn into a monster, Draco. Whether she’s willing to admit it or not, she’s still in love with you. She never really gave up.”

“And how would you know that?” I asked.

After a moment, she said, “I went to see her. I gave her that photo strip you found because your father was going to destroy it, and I showed her a picture of you and Scorpius. When she looked at it, it was obvious there was love in her eyes.”

I reached for my coffee, taking a slow sip as I filed away that fact for later review. Of course, it could just be my mother being dramatic.

“Well, I don’t think she feels the same way now. Like I said, things aren’t good between us,” I replied.

“And how much of that is because you’re acting like she’s completely at fault for this situation?”

My stomach dropped. In my head, I’d taken partial responsibility for what had happened between us, but had I ever expressed that to Hermione?

“I see,” my mother said, tsking. “You need to talk about this, or you’re going to destroy whatever relationship you could have with her in the future.”

“I don’t want a relationship with her,” I said reflexively, but even as the words passed through my lips, my insides twisted.

“You’re in no frame of mind to make that decision right now. Talk, Draco.” 

While we waited for Astoria to return, my mother managed to get detail after detail about what had been going on in my life out of me. I told her about my conversation with Hannah and the way Mel had been acting around the office. I told her about Belby and the fertility potion and Astoria’s reaction. 

She was shocked to find out that so many people had known about the affair.

Just as Scorpius started to get antsy in his highchair, the Floo roared to life and Astoria stumbled out, looking like she’d been crying. Her hair was a mess and her dress—like I’d thought—had been morphed into something much tighter and shorter.

She looked even more drained than usual, but if Flint’s mother was to be believed, she’d been up all night.

“Mama!” Scorp yelled. “Mama!”

When Astoria saw my mother sitting across from me, she averted her eyes, not even acknowledging Scorpius.

“Good morning,” she said quietly. “I’m going to go… freshen up.”

My mother clicked her tongue. “Yes, that would probably be for the best, dear. No need to sit at the dining table in last night’s clothes.”

With a sigh, I rose. “We might as well get it all out in the open. We know where you were last night, Astoria. I’m not going to judge you for it — Salazar knows I have no right to — but you need to tell me when you’re planning on staying out.”

“Like you did before?” she spat, closing the distance between us. “When did you  _ ever _ tell me that you wouldn’t be coming home?”

“We didn’t have a child to care for then,” I reminded her, even though I felt guilty.

Her eyes darted to Scorpius. He was holding his arms out to her and flexing his fingers in recognition.

“Hi, baby,” Astoria said, reaching out and tousling his hair. “Mama will be right back. I’m sure your grandmother will keep you busy until then.”

Nodding, my mother stood and grabbed Scorpius. After a glance out the window, she said, “I’m going to take him out into the garden. I think the two of you need to have a serious discussion.”

“Mother, don’t interfere—”

“She’s right,” Astoria interrupted, taking a step forward and slumping into a chair. “You and I need to figure out a few things.”

Settling my hands on my hips, I looked at my wife. “Really, I’m not angry, Astoria. It was one night.”

Slowly, my mother moved to the door, Scorpius in her arms. Her exit was far from stealthy, but she acted like we would hardly notice.

“But it’s going to keep happening,” Astoria replied, her eyes meeting mine. “I’m not just going to sit around here day after day, care for Scorpius, and watch you fall in love with Hermione again, Draco. I can’t do it.”

“So, what? You’re going to have a parade of one-offs?” I asked, and then I realised how horrible it sounded.

She looked like I’d slapped her.

“Until last night, I had never been with anyone but you,” she said quietly. “And we’re separated. I’m not — I wanted to see what it was like, being with someone else.”

I’d known that. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d known she was a virgin when we’d married. It had been a clause in the contract, and her father had also told me as much.

“I shouldn’t have phrased that so crassly,” I admitted. “I just — I know you’re right. We need to come up with some sort of schedule. A permanent arrangement for Scorpius so he can adapt. I thought you were still asleep in the bedroom when we first got up this morning.”

Clearing her throat, Astoria said, “I think we should live separately.”

Her words shocked me. I had thought she wanted me around every night for Scorpius.

“You want to move out?”

She shook her head. “No. This is my home. You weren’t here at the beginning, and you were the one who carried on an affair. I want  _ you _ to move out.”

“But what about Scorp? I want to see him every day—”

“You’re more than welcome to come by after work and deal with bedtime and play with him. That doesn’t have to change. And, of course, you can always take him for overnights and the like. I’ll carry on with him during the day like I have been.”

“You’ve thought about this,” I stated. 

“Of course I have. You said this marriage was over before it ever really began, Draco. I’m willing to admit that now.”

Her face showed her resignation and it made me feel even more guilty.

“So, we should—”

“Get a divorce. As soon as possible.”

The words came out in a rush, like she had to hurry or else they’d be stuck inside her forever. Like she was ripping the plaster off a cut. I’d known we were heading there — hell, I’d even wanted a divorce myself — but something about Astoria’s words made it feel more real, somehow sharper.

I pushed my sleep rumpled hair back with both of my hands, my palms coming to rest on the back of my skull.

“Right. Well, I’ll talk to Father—”

“No,” Astoria interrupted again, standing and steadying herself using the back of the chair. “I will. I started this mess by talking to him, so I’ll fix it.”

As much as I wanted to be the one to tell my father to fuck off and that I would do what I wanted to with my life, I agreed. If Astoria wanted to be the one to speak to him and show some backbone, I would let her.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll start looking for a place to live on Monday.”

I saw her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she nodded and took shaky steps towards the stairs. Before her bedroom door slammed shut, I heard the sound of a sniffle and sob. She’d put on a brave face, but she was still hurting.

While I hated her for what she’d done to me, I also knew I hadn’t treated her well. As soon as I’d started things up with Hermione, I’d been absent and neglectful. 

I knew two wrongs didn’t make a right and all that shite — and I certainly didn’t deserve to lose years of my life — but I felt like I could understand Astoria better than I had before.

* * *

As soon as I stepped through the Floo, I was shocked. The whole lower level of Granger’s house had changed. Her furniture was different and the walls were painted a different colour. Her normally bare coffee table was covered with the Pensieve, the trunk, and various trinkets.

Curious, I turned to examine the mantle. 

The otter and the dragon were still there, apparently making the cut when she’d redecorated. However, they were now joined by photos — one of the Golden Trio, another of Potter’s kids — and a few small, worn-looking books.

“Hi,” Granger said, interrupting my perusal. 

I spun to face her, startled.

“You’ve certainly been busy,” I replied, gesturing to the room around us. “It looks great.”

“Thanks.” She twisted her hands in the hem of her black and white striped t-shirt. “It was time for a change.”

“Might as well make all your changes at once. It will be a fresh start all around.”

Granger nodded, still nervously fiddling with her top. “I suppose so. Last time Pansy and I just rearranged things a bit. I needed something more drastic.”

“Well, like I said, it looks great.”

Fuck, I sounded so awkward.

“Thanks,” she said again, and I knew I wasn’t the only one feeling nervous. “I made dinner. Your favourite—or, what used to be your favourite.”

“I brought wine,” I stated, pulling two shrunken bottles from my pocket. “Both a red and a white since I wasn’t sure what we’d be having.”

A smile spread across her face and she gestured to the dining table.

“Sit down and relax. I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Do you need help?” 

“Have you learned how to cook over the past two years?” she asked, her voice teasing.

Shrugging, I answered, “No, but I’m sure you could find something for me to do.”

“No, like I said, it’ll only be a few more minutes. Just chill the white wine.”

She started walking back towards the kitchen, and I watched her. Her jeans looked a little big on her, like she’d lost some weight, and I started to wonder if she’d been eating. Stress did funny things to a person, and Granger had been dealing with a boatload of it.

I’d likely been causing the bulk of it.

I moved towards the table, my body instinctively heading for one seat. She’d set the table neatly. Utensils were lined up beside the plate, a napkin tucked beneath them.

There were flowers in the centre of the table, and I examined them closely, looking for any sign of where they’d come from.

“I bought them for myself,” Granger commented, walking into the room with a tray and several bowls levitating in front of her. 

The scent of roasted chicken filled the air, and I knew the bowls would contain roasted potatoes and peas. She set everything down on the table and I saw she also had carrots.

“It smells great.”

“You always did enjoy this meal,” she said, a glazed look in her eyes. “You said it reminded you of Hogwarts. Your elves wouldn’t make it except for on your birthday.”

“Not fancy enough for a Malfoy,” I told her, remembering how my father had complained about it. “But you’re clearly a goddess.”

At the use of the nickname, her breath hitched.

“I—fuck—I’m sorry. I forgot. That wasn’t intentional.”

“It’s fine. I know what you meant.” Tucking her hair behind her ears, she sat down in one of the vacant seats. “Help yourself, Malfoy.”

_ Not Draco. _

I’d gotten used to her calling me by my given name, but she was distancing herself. 

As I served myself helpings of everything, Granger watched and waited her turn. Once I was done, she took small portions and set them on her plate. I wanted to nag her to eat more, but I bit my tongue.

It wasn’t my concern.

“So, you invited me to dinner,” I said, trying to make it sound conversational.

She pushed her food around her plate with her fork, not really eating much of anything. “I did. I thought we could talk a little. Penelope—my therapist—she thinks I need to really talk to you. Get things out in the open.”

I reached for the wine I’d had under a cooling charm and added some to each of our glasses, sampling mine immediately.

“I’d like that, I think,” I responded, encouraging her to continue.

“Tonight, I’m going to show you the Christmas Eve we spent together and the Christmas Day after,” she began, speaking slowly. “I need you to see how things were for me after you went home.”

“I’ll see all the gifts.”

“Yes. All the gifts that you bought me.” 

Much to my surprise, she summoned things over from the coffee table. 

“I have some here. There were nine of them,” Granger explained, pushing a red box that said Cartier towards me. “That’s the diamond necklace.”

I suddenly remembered Astoria’s trip to Gringotts, the way she’d come back with a simple round diamond set in platinum.

“What did you give Astoria?”

“I gave it to your father. It was a replica I made with  _ Gemino _ . I wouldn’t give him the actual necklace.”

After the perfume incident, my father had come to the DMLE. He’d never done that before, and I’d been pleasantly surprised.

However, I now knew that he’d had another objective. He had to get this necklace from Granger before I started asking too many questions.

I reached for the box and opened the lid, looking down on the diamond that probably had a price tag nearly equivalent to what I earned annually as an Auror. It was somehow more beautiful than the copy Astoria now kept in the house.

Swallowing hard, I ran my fingers along the delicate chain, imagining how it would look around Granger’s slender neck, the way the diamond would settle against her chest. I glanced up at her.

“Do you ever wear it?”

She shook her head. “It wouldn’t have been explainable. And Blaise…” Her words trailed off and she twirled a lock of her hair nervously. “You can have it back, if you want. I know it’s very valuable, and I should’ve just—”

“Stop, Granger,” I interrupted, closing the lid and handing it back to her. “This is yours. I’m glad you didn’t give it to my father and Astoria. I obviously wanted you to have it.”

“Okay,” she said, exhaling sharply. “You’re right.”

“What else?”

“The otter and the dragon,” she murmured, gesturing to the mantle. “The dress. A bottle of my favourite perfume.”

“The perfume that triggered the memory, I’m assuming?” 

She nodded. “Yes. Your father — when he came to the DMLE — he told me that my perfume had made you remember the gifts and I needed to give him the necklace.”

I watched as her fingers drew patterns over the box, though I couldn’t identify what they actually were.

“Okay. What else?” 

“Well, that’s actually when you gave me  _ Anima _ . For Christmas.”

_ Anima _ .

“I need to ask you something. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I’m just wondering...” She set her fork down and focused all her attention on me.“You can keep eating, Granger.”

With a nod, she resumed, taking a tiny bite of potato.

“Did Blaise know that I thought you were my soulmate?”

She nearly choked on the meagre bit of food. Grabbing her wine glass, she drank deeper than she should’ve and sputtered even harder.

“Are you alright?” I asked, and she nodded, reaching for her napkin.

“I’m fine,” she said, but her voice was strained. After cleaning herself up, she continued. “I think he knew, but he never really said anything to me about it. He wasn’t exactly a fan of our affair from the time it started, so he encouraged me to end it.”

“I assumed as much,” I began, taking another bite and hoping she’d do the same. “Do you think that’s why he left?”

I saw her mask slip into place, her emotions vanishing in a split second. She was hiding from me again, and while I understood that this was hard to deal with, it made my stomach twist into knots.

“He left because I was keeping things from him,” she responded, looking down at her plate. “I didn’t tell him when I ran into you in Diagon Alley, and I didn’t… I couldn’t tell him how I was feeling when you came back into the picture. Hell, most of the time, I didn’t even really know myself.”

Even though her emotions were locked away, I could tell she was telling the truth. She knew what she’d done wrong in their relationship and had no problem admitting it.

“But if he knew we were soulmates, then he should’ve understood there was always going to be a connection between us,” I stated quietly. “He shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

Granger shrugged, but didn’t answer.

I changed tactics. “Do Muggles believe in soulmates?”

“Muggles are unsure about soulmates. Many of them think it’s just a bunch of nonsense. Others swear that they’ve found theirs.”

“But you know they’re real, right?”

Her admission was quiet. “I do now. I didn’t believe it when you first gave me the book.”

“When did you start to believe?” 

I could see the tears flooding her eyes, and she pressed her fingers against them.

“After you were gone.”

  
  



	48. Hermione - 30th June 2007

I don’t know why, but I hadn’t been expecting him to ask me about soulmates. It was silly, really; he’d seen the inscription in _Anima_ and undoubtedly felt the same pull that I did whenever we were in close proximity.

Something inside of me cracked and tears started welling in my eyes, quickly escaping and flowing down my cheeks. I’d buried this — these feelings, these thoughts — deep down inside of myself and his question had started unearthing it all. The meagre amount of food on my plate made my stomach turn.

I remembered the ache I’d felt when I was Obliviating him, like I was tearing myself apart bit by bit. The whole time, I’d fought to suppress thoughts of soul magic because the ripping sensation inside my chest made me think of Horcruxes, of my soul being shredded. 

Once I’d finished, I refused to think about it, let alone write about it in my journals or talk to anyone about it. It was too painful to even consider.

I chose to believe that there was no such thing as soulmates, even though I’d experienced what it felt like to find mine. Over and over, I reminded myself that Draco was never _really_ mine, and therefore, it couldn’t be true.

But I always felt his absence — the loss — in a way that far surpassed a normal breakup.

Deep down, I’d known that he had been right all along. We were soulmates, connected in a way that few could truly understand.

“Granger?” he said, breaking through the haze of my emotions. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

After taking a deep breath, I dashed my remaining tears away and looked him in the eyes. 

“It’s fine. We would’ve ended up talking about it tonight anyway.”

His jaw tightened, knowing I was lying, but he nodded. “Okay. Do you—What should we talk about?”

“We can talk about it. The connection — the soulmate thing,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion.

“Did we talk about it before you…?”

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. You wrote it in the book, and I never brought it up. Like I said, I never really believed in it until you were gone.”

“What—” he huffed and paused, a hand rubbing at his cheek “—what does it feel like for you? Or what did it feel like?”

Thinking, I twisted my hands together, unable to hold still. “It felt like I just pulled and pulled until we tore apart. I thought that I’d lost pieces of myself, that you still had them.”

“Pieces of you?” 

“Could you feel them?” I asked nervously. “Like there was something there, but it was just… incomplete?”

I noticed his fingers curling into a fist and then straightening. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and I remembered the way he’d tasted, the way his lips were always soft but insistent.

“Yes,” he answered, breaking the silence. “I could feel something missing all along.”

A shiver raced down my spine.

And then guilt set in.

He was still living with Astoria, and Blaise had been gone for less than two days. I shouldn’t even be letting myself entertain thoughts of Draco. I shouldn’t be feeling excited that he could tell something had been missing all along. Hell, I probably shouldn’t have even cooked him dinner.

But I was a fool when it came to him. No matter how many times we hurt each other, I kept opening myself up for more. Years had passed, and I was still the same stupid girl who had let him in over and over again when I knew it couldn’t be anything more than a dirty little secret.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I had hoped that you’d be happy with Astoria and Scorpius.”

Looking down at his hands, he replied, “I think I was for awhile. But I felt something pulling me back. I wanted part of my old life.”

The lovesick part inside of me heard _I felt you pulling me back, and I wanted you_.

I waited a few seconds, giving him time to amend, but he didn’t.

“I never thought you’d come back.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, swallowing hard, his voice thick with emotion.

“For what?” I asked.

Draco sighed and looked away. “You were happy with Blaise.”

Just that morning, I’d had a long conversation with Penelope about this very topic, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to talk to Draco about it yet. I still had a lot to sort out on my own. For now though, I was one hundred percent sure that I couldn’t let Blaise back in my life if — or when — he came to apologise.

“Listen, let’s just… I don’t want to talk about Blaise. Things between us got so messy and complicated and I don’t know how I actually felt anymore.”

“It seems we can’t really talk about anything without entering a battlefield,” he said, looking away again. “It’s like there are curses in the air between us and we’re dodging them.”

“I need some time,” I answered. “And I know that’s selfish, but Draco, I’m trying. I can’t just force myself to feel better.”

“I understand. I know I’ve been… impatient. And, from the beginning, I haven’t made this very easy for you.”

I simply shrugged. There was no point in contesting what he’d said. It was all true.

The silence stretched between us for what felt like minutes, though I was sure it hadn’t been more than thirty seconds.

“So… Christmas,” he said, jumping to a topic he likely considered safe. “What did past Draco decide was an appropriate celebration?”

I smiled at him, and it felt more genuine than any of my smiles had since he’d found out about the Obliviation.

“He took me away for Christmas Eve, of course.”

Looking at my plate, Draco asked if I was going to eat anymore. I shook my head, knowing I wouldn’t be able to right now. My emotions were too raw and I was too volatile after the soulmate conversation, however brief it had been.

He set his fork down and wiped his mouth, dropping his napkin on his plate. 

“Shall we?” he asked, rising to his feet and gesturing towards the Pensieve.

Closing my eyes, I touched my wand to my temple and twirled it, tugging the memories I wanted to show him free. There were a few distinct ones, but they were all equally important.

The silvery strands clung to the tip of my wand, and I stood. As we moved to the sitting area, I could’ve sworn I felt Draco’s hand on the small of my back, guiding me along, his magic reaching for mine. When I looked to my side, though, his hand was in his pocket.

Had he touched me and then pulled away? Or was I a crazy person?

Setting the memories inside the basin, I waited for him to touch the surface.

* * *

The familiar feeling of landing in the memory should’ve been a comfort, but it really wasn’t. This one wasn’t all sunshine and shagging. I’d chosen to show Draco our Christmas Eve in France, the gift scavenger hunt, and part of my Christmas Day with the Potters and the Weasleys.

When I glanced over, I saw Draco looking around, cataloguing his surroundings. 

“Are we at the Black estate in France?”

I nodded. “We are. You took me here for Christmas Eve.”

He pushed his fringe back. “I wonder how I got that one by Mother. She usually has the wards around this place fortified.”

“You never mentioned it,” I answered with a shrug. 

Just as I finished speaking, I heard the click of memory Hermione’s heels on the austere black marble floors. She and memory Draco came into view, setting their bags down in the grand entrance hall.

_“Purebloods really do live a different life,” memory Hermione commented, running her fingertips along the surface of an antique table. “This place could be a museum.”_

_“You haven't even seen it, Granger,” memory Draco teased. “How can you tell based on the entrance hall alone? The rest of the estate could be quite barren. First impressions are very important.”_

_She laughed. “Well, you just called it an estate, and even I know that means big with more land than anyone could ever need.”_

_“My mother is quite fond of this place—”_

To hide her discomfort with family talk, memory Hermione stepped forward, her hips swaying gently. She brought her hands up to his face, cupping it. 

_“I didn’t come to France to talk about your mother.”_

When she pulled him down into a kiss, he groaned against her lips. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she rose up on her tiptoes, desperate to meet him halfway. Memory Draco’s hands drifted down to her arse and squeezed. 

_“I suppose you didn’t,” he murmured against her lips. “Lucky for you, I have all kinds of things I want to do while we’re here.”_

_Lacing her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, she replied, “Well, I think we should get started on your list, then. We’re only here for a day.”_

_“I never have enough time with you. We could spend every single moment together, and it still wouldn’t be enough for me.”_

And then memory Draco kissed her again, consuming her.

I remembered how those words had hurt. They’d made me think about how he could have more time with me, if not for Astoria. However, rather than fixating on that, memory Hermione let herself get swept away by his kiss and the way he lifted her and Apparated to a huge study.

When we all landed there, the set-up was clear. There was champagne and chocolate truffles and a nest of blankets and pillows in front of a roaring fire. The walls were lined with old books and magical heirlooms.

She broke the kiss to look around, and memory Draco squeezed her arse.

_“No exploring yet,” he stated firmly. “I want all of your attention right now.”_

Her breath hitched at the intense look in his eyes and the tone of his voice.

_“Can you give me that, Hermione?” memory Draco asked. “I need it to just be us.”_

_“Of c-course,” she stuttered ineloquently, her nerves setting alight. “Whatever you want.”_

After setting her on the floor, his fingers started working his shirt buttons, deftly sliding them through the holes. Memory Hermione kept her eyes locked on him, watching every single movement. Her breathing had grown heavier and her teeth were sinking into her lower lip. She reached for the hem of her jumper, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

_“Watch. And then I’ll undress you.”_

As his shirt fell to the floor, he started working his belt buckle, pulling and sliding it free. He toed off his shoes, removed his socks, and then met her eyes as he slowly unfastened his trousers. Memory Hermione was still watching, her thighs pressed tightly together and her breath coming in shorter pants than normal.

The trousers fell to the floor, leaving him in only a pair of tight red pants.

_“Do you want me to finish?” memory Draco asked, stroking his straining cock through the material. “Or do you want me to undress you first?”_

_She cleared her throat. “Whatever you want.”_

_He smirked. “I quite like the sound of that.” Stepping closer, he wrapped a hand around her hip. “Whatever I want.”_

Memory Hermione nodded, unable to speak.

_“I’m assuming you can guess where we’ll be laying down?”_

Again, she nodded. 

He grabbed the hem of her jumper and pulled it over her head, exposing the thin white camisole she’d been wearing underneath. Looking down, he saw that she was mostly exposed. 

She hadn’t worn a bra. Hadn’t seen the point.

Memory Draco’s hands moved to her breasts, caressing gently, his palms running over her hard nipples. From this vantage point, I could see that she arched into his touch the slightest bit, desperate to feel the sexual energy thrumming between them.

His right hand stayed on her left breast, but the left ventured down between her legs, cupping her and pressing the hard seam of her jeans against her slit. His lips landed on her throat, sucking and teasing her just the way she liked.

But it was all short-lived. 

When she let out her first whimper, he pulled away, his hands sliding to the waistband of her jeans and unbuttoning them. As soon as they were pooled at her feet, he laughed.

_“Shoes,” memory Draco said._

Rather than leaning down, memory Hermione just closed her eyes and imagined the shoes and socks and jeans piled on a nearby chair. They went there, leaving her in a pair of green lace knickers and the white camisole.

It was her turn to laugh.

_“Gryffindor red for you and Slytherin green for me.” Her hand stroked over his cock, squeezing the head. “We’ve got Christmas colours.”_

_“That we do,” he said, hugging her tightly and pulling her closer. “And you’re a goddess in green.”_

_Biting her lip, she replied, “It’s definitely festive, but I really don’t think red is the best color for you. It makes you look slightly demonic.”_

_“Like the Muggle version of the devil?”_

Memory Hermione kissed him, silencing his teasing while she continued to caress his bulge, her fingers taunting him.

_“Come with me,” memory Draco said, pulling away and breaking the kiss._

_“Oh, I plan to,” she quipped, and he swatted her arse._

He led her to the blankets and pillows. As she stood in front of the makeshift bed, I could remember the warmth of the fire radiating against my skin, the anticipation of what was to come heating me from the inside out. I had been thinking about how many times I’d told him ‘just this once’ or that it was a ‘summer fling’.

But it was Christmas, and I was still there with him. 

_“Go and lie down,” he said gruffly. “I want to look at you in front of the fire. Just like that.”_

Again, her breath hitched, but she followed his command, settling herself into the soft nest of pillows and blankets. As soon as memory Hermione had nestled down — her hair splayed across the pillows — he loomed over her, looking down and memorising every inch of her.

Or he’d thought he had been.

She met his eyes, waiting to see what he’d do next.

_“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, leaning forward and capturing her lips. “Gods, I dreamed this so many times.”_

Her fingers twisted in his hair, keeping his mouth pressed to hers and choosing to focus on the physical rather than the emotional. I saw his tongue swipe into her mouth, and she rolled them onto their sides, hitching her thigh over his hip.

Memory Draco’s hands roamed down to her arse, squeezing and pulling her as close as possible. A whimper escaped her lips and he drank it in, repeating the motion. 

_“Oh,” she breathed as he kissed her neck and rocked against her core. “More.”_

_“More?”_

_“More,” memory Hermione demanded. “I love how you feel.”_

Kissing down her neck, her chest, he continued to move against her, his pants still firmly in place. She drank in his attention, her body flushing as arousal bloomed in her belly, her knickers getting wetter by the second.

Memory Draco’s lips wrapped around her hard nipple, even though it was covered by her camisole. His tongue rubbed against it roughly, the cotton teasing along the hardened tip.

_“Draco,” she cried, and he rolled her onto her back again, setting himself between her thighs._

As soon as he was cradled there, he rocked against her again, his cock pressing into her clit harder than before. He pulled her camisole down, exposing her breasts, and sucked on her nipple. 

When her eyes fluttered shut, he released her slowly, his teeth scraping along the length of the hardened bud. And then he kissed across her chest, repeating his motions on the other side.

_“Could you come like this?” memory Draco asked after a few minutes of teasing. “With me sliding against you and sucking your nipples?”_

_“I think so.”_

_“We’ll have to try that another time,” he commented, vanishing the remaining clothes with a snap of his fingers. “Are you ready for me? Or do you need—”_

Memory Hermione cut him off with a kiss, wrapping her legs around his waist, and he slipped inside of her easily, her body already wet and more than accommodating. He laced his fingers through hers and pinned her hands above her head. 

I remembered expecting him to fuck me, to drive into me hard and fast.

But he didn’t.

Moving languidly, memory Draco made love to memory Hermione, his thrusts strong and steady, his eyes locked on hers. His hips rolled, grinding down against her, and she met his movements, her body begging to come. Every single nerve had been triggered, firing powerfully. She moaned and breathed deeply; he watched her face, mimicking his movements when she reacted strongly.

I couldn’t resist speaking as we watched them move together. 

“This was the most intense sexual experience of my life,” I said quietly. “Watching you like that, the way you were so focused on me…”

Present Draco looked over at me, and I saw the same intensity in his eyes. “I think it would’ve been mine, too.”

Much to my horror, my clit throbbed at the look he gave me, my insides clenching. 

I’d gotten wet watching the memories before — but this was new. I felt my body coming to life the way it used to when he touched me, remembering what it felt like and how desperately I wanted it to feel the same way again.

 _“Fuck, you’re perfect.”_

Memory Draco’s voice cut through the silence and, just for a second, I thought it had been present Draco. 

His thrusts sped up in time with memory Hermione’s breathing, his shaft dragging along her clit. 

_“Like that!” she cried, looking up at him. “Again, please!”_

Moving the same way, his eyes locked on her face as it scrunched up, the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within her body. Her legs moved higher, her knees pulling up along his ribs. He dropped down lower, capturing her lips, his chest rubbing against her bare breasts.

He swallowed each cry, each whimper, each breath that escaped her and she held back, not letting the tension in her body release. 

I could remember trying to prolong everything, thinking the orgasm would be that much more intense if only I held on a bit longer, waited for him to really drive into me.

_“Come on,” memory Draco panted, his fringe darkening with sweat. “I can feel you clenching around me. Let go.”_

_“Harder,” she demanded. “Please, Draco. Harder.”_

His body kept moving in the same way, but he sped up, crashing against her more violently than before. Her back arched off the makeshift bed and I saw her toes curling, every muscle in her body spasming.

_“Fuck!” memory Hermione screamed, her body trembling as her release rolled through her. “Yes! Just like that!”_

_“Hermione, I’m going to come,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering as he tried to hang on. “Fuck, I’m sorry!”_

His cock sank into her once more and he released her hands, his weight settling atop her, pressing her into the rug. The pads of her fingers stroked up and down his back, soothing him. Silence filled the room, interrupted only by the crackling logs in the fire.

_After a few minutes, memory Hermione asked, “Why did you apologise?”_

_Memory Draco laughed. “I came in less than five minutes.”_

_“But I’d already finished—”_

_He cut her off with another kiss. “Darling, I wanted to make you come over and over again. Not just once. Tonight is supposed to be special.”_

_“Special?” she asked, unsure of what he meant._

_Stroking her hair back and pulling it away from her face, memory Draco replied, “Yes. Special. I love you, Granger, and this is our Christmas celebration.” He kissed her sweetly, his tongue stroking against hers. “And I know you’ve always loved Christmas.”_

_“How?”_

As he smiled down at her, memory Hermione took in every detail of his face, the way it looked in this light. She knew he was married, that this relationship was problematic at best, that it couldn’t last. But she wanted to remember.

I had wanted to remember.

_“I always noticed you, even when you didn’t see me,” memory Draco stated, not elaborating any further._

Memory Hermione shivered, the tingle of magic coursing through her in a completely different way than it had before. This time, it seeped down to her bones, infiltrating her very marrow. And it wasn’t her magic.

It was his. And her guard had fallen enough to let it in.

She worried her lower lip, debating whether or not she should say something.

But then memory Draco kissed her, taking away her internal conflict. She stayed silent and forced her brain to shut off and let her body feel.

“What just happened?” present Draco asked, looking to me for answers. “That wasn’t post orgasm shuddering. Your face—Something happened.”

The scenery around us morphed, and we found ourselves in the same room at a different time.

I met present Draco’s eyes. “I didn’t realise what it was at the time.”

“And now?”

“I think—” I took a deep breath “—I think that’s when our… our souls… or my soul, it felt something. Something changed.”

“Not in Mykonos?” 

“Maybe it started to change in Mykonos, but here — in France — this is where I started to accept that this wasn’t just a fling.”

Present Draco’s Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed, and we both looked around, finally registering that memory Draco and memory Hermione were on a chaise, curled together with a book in hand. Their eyes were both darting back and forth, reading the pages in front of them.

The book was old, almost falling apart.

And it was also one of the things I’d put on my mantle as I redecorated today.

_Memory Draco read aloud. “He knew how she would love. He had not loved her without gaining that instinctive knowledge of what capabilities were in her. Her soul would walk in glorious sunlight if any man was worthy, by his power of loving, to win back her love.”_

_“I like that,” memory Hermione replied. “It’s...”_

_His lips pressed against her cheek. “It’s fitting.”_

Memory Hermione bit her lip again and turned the page, holding back what she wanted to say.

That yes, of course he knew how she would love — because she loved him.

Rather than watching memory Draco and memory Hermione read _North and South_ , I sped up the memory, stopping towards the end of the night. I looked to present Draco, my stomach flipping as I thought about what Christmas Day would bring.

_“You know, this has been the perfect evening,” memory Hermione said, her head tipped back and resting on his shoulder. “Sex, a book, cuddling here…”_

_“I could get used to it,” memory Draco replied, his lips landing on her neck and kissing the love bites he’d left behind earlier. “Take the book home if you want. To remember this by.”_

Memory Draco busied himself with her body, his hands roaming up towards her breasts; he didn’t see the pained look on her face. 

But present Draco did.

“I was completely oblivious,” he stated. “I was so focused on fucking you that I didn’t even realise—”

I cut him off, not letting him spiral. 

“Stop. That was what I wanted. I didn’t want you to know that I was feeling anything for you. I wanted it to seem like I was still just in this for a good time.”

“But why?” present Draco asked, his eyes locked on the scene playing out in front of us. “You were already miserable—”

“I wasn’t!” I shouted, abruptly halting his words. “Gods, by this point, we were already spending almost every night together, and I was in denial. Having sex was easier than talking about my feelings.”

“Denial? About what?”

“I was already in love with you, obviously. But I was just starting to figure that out.”

He didn’t say anything more after that, and I chewed my cheek nervously, watching as memory Draco fingered memory Hermione, as she turned and straddled him, riding his cock until they were both shaking and sated again, their lips meeting and sharing breaths along with their kisses.

I thought back to the day in the Leaky before Hannah interrupted us, when my breathing had started to mirror his, and I saw it happening before my eyes in this memory. It always had.

As I looked to present Draco, my lungs started following the same cadence of his, and I knew they always would. If we were sharing space, we were in sync, even when our emotions were at odds. It may take a few moments, but our mutual awareness would eventually kick in and correct the disparities.

The sex didn’t phase me this time around. I was facing the chaise, but I wasn’t really seeing what was happening there.

I was too busy thinking about the passage he’d read from _North and South_ , how it had been pointed and I’d ignored it.

If I’d told him I loved him sooner, would he have left Astoria? 

I would never know.

“Granger?” present Draco said, breaking into my thoughts. “Can we… I think we could skip to the morning or whatever you wanted me to see next.”

“Right,” I replied, pressing my fingers into my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was—I got lost in my own thoughts.”

With a wave of my hand, time sped up and then we found ourselves in a bed. The satin sheets were the colour of champagne.

_“I don’t want to go home,” memory Hermione said, snuggling closer to memory Draco in the obscenely large bed. “I wish we could just stay here all day.”_

Sunlight poured through the gauzy drapes, reflecting off the snow that covered the grounds. I remembered that we’d woken early, savouring every possible minute that we had together.

_“I wish we could, too,” memory Draco replied, his hand stroking over her curls. “Next year, we’ll be together. I promise, darling.”_

His words made me shiver and I looked over at present Draco. He and I both knew that this would be the only Christmas we’d ever share, so I wasn’t surprised to see the frown on his face or the tension in his shoulders.

Memory Hermione didn’t answer, and I knew it was because she didn’t believe him.

_“Granger?”_

_“Yeah?” she answered, her lips teasing the underside of his jaw._

_“There are surprises for you at home,” memory Draco stated. “I took the liberty of setting some things up.”_

_“Draco—”_

_He cut her off with a kiss. “None of that. I was happy to do it since we couldn’t have today together.”_

_“But how? I didn’t see anything when I went home yesterday.”_

_“Magic,” he quipped, and memory Hermione shot him a glare. “Listen, don’t worry about it. Just enjoy all the presents.”_

_“So not just books then?” she asked, her voice quiet._

_Looking at her quizzically, memory Draco said, “Of course not.”_

_“Okay. I—Thank you.”_

Present Draco spoke. “You don’t like receiving books for Christmas, Granger? I thought that was a thing between us?”

I shook my head and paused the memory. “Not particularly. Everyone always seems to give them to me, and I do have other interests. And nothing says boring like a man buying his mistress only a book.”

“I see,” he answered. “But obviously you received at least one book.”

“You already know some of the things you bought for me,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Right. Christmas shopping in Muggle London.”

Nodding, I resumed the memory, skipping ahead to our goodbye in the entrance hall.

_“Can I come over tomorrow?” memory Draco asked, his arms wrapped around memory Hermione’s waist, embracing her._

_Pecking his cheek, she said, “If you can get away, I’d love to see you. I don’t have any plans.”_

_“I’ll find an excuse. I don’t—I hate it when we’re apart for more than a day.”_

_“I should be home all day, but I understand if you can’t,” memory Hermione replied, even though she would be crushed if he didn’t turn up._

_Memory Draco leaned down and kissed her hard — possessively — and said, “I’ll be there.”_

After pulling away, memory Hermione grabbed her overnight bag and headed into the Floo. The flames flashed green and carried her away.

When she landed in her house, there was an envelope propped up on the table. She immediately dropped her bag and hurried over, carefully tearing it open.

_Happy Christmas, my love._

_You know I’d do anything, give anything, to be spending today with you instead of sitting in the Manor with my parents and Astoria. It breaks my heart to think of you in our little house alone until you depart for Potter’s. So, after you fell asleep last night, I popped home (and yes, our little house is my home) and hid a few things for you. Your task is to find them — without magic!_

_There are nine gifts in all, one for each month since the first time we were together. I know you said you didn’t want me to overdo it, but I am who I am, Granger, and I won’t apologise for that._

_There is another note with each gift. Good luck, and I hope you know that I am missing you like crazy. I’ll be counting the minutes until I’m back here with you._

_I love you so much. More than anything. I always will._

_DM_

Her eyes filled with tears, and I remembered that I’d been shocked that he considered my house his home. Like everyone else in the world, I’d heard the phrase ‘home is where the heart is’ or that a person’s home could be anywhere the person they loved was, but I’d never really understood it.

Present Draco and I watched as she examined the room around her, looking for his gifts. 

“I see the otter and the dragon,” he said, pointing to the mantle. “You put them back in the same place.”

Shrugging, I replied, “They were always there before. It seemed fitting.”

I could tell he was thinking, considering what my words could mean, even though I had said exactly what I meant.

They would always hold that special place.

“What else is down here?” he asked.

Memory Hermione walked to the bookshelf and reached into her cloak pocket, retrieving _North and South_ and settling it onto a bookshelf. Present Draco moved closer, looking over her shoulder and being careful not to touch her, even though she wouldn’t have felt anything.

“ _Anima_ ,” he stated. “How long did it take you to find it?”

“Honestly? Hours,” I answered with a sad smile. “I was nearly late for dinner at Harry’s because I wouldn’t give up.”

We followed memory Hermione up the stairs and into the bedroom. The bed was unmade, the sheets still in disarray from two nights before. She looked down and noticed a sliver of red between the light blue sheets. Pulling them back, she found a bra and a pair of very tiny red lace knickers and grinned. 

The note had been slipped through the adjustable part of the strap.

_I’ve always hated the colour red, unless it was on you. From your Gryffindor uniform to lingerie to lipstick… It’s always suited you._

“I see I stuck to a theme,” Draco commented. “Red dress, red underwear…”

“But a diamond instead of a ruby.”

Moving to her dresser, memory Hermione laid the lingerie down on the surface and started opening all the drawers. There was a book of poems wrapped in one of the shirts she’d stolen from him, complete with an inscription on the front cover, as always.

“I have the book on my shelf, so no need to worry about what it says now,” I told Draco.

He just nodded and kept watching memory Hermione flit around the room. When she disappeared into the closet, we heard her squeal. A second later, she rushed out with the dress and the diamond necklace, tears in her eyes even though she was smiling.

Deep down, I remembered the conflicting feelings — the happiness laced with guilt — and I sighed aloud.

Draco looked over at me, a question in his eyes.

“It was just… I’d never had anyone do something like this for me,” I explained, my words ineloquent. “And then I was happy and excited about it, but I also felt guilty because you were married. You should’ve been doing these things for her, not for me.”

Shaking his head, he turned back to memory Hermione.

_“Paris for Valentine’s Day… Holy shit,” she said aloud, clutching the note to her chest._

Carefully, she removed the necklace from the hanger, her fingers shaking as she unclasped the chain. Moving over to the mirror, she looped it around her neck, wishing Draco was there to do it for her, that he was standing behind her and she could watch his eyes as he looked at her wearing his gift in the mirror. Once it was secured, she leaned closer, pressing her fingers against the hair-fine chain.

She bit her lip as she examined it — examined her own reflection — and let the guilt and excitement ebb and flow through her like the tide. She could be happy and feel bad at the same time; they weren’t mutually exclusive, and she’d known that for months.

Again, she opened a dresser drawer. She stripped off the v-neck jumper she’d been wearing, trading it for a turtleneck that concealed the diamond that would raise so many questions.

“Fuck,” Draco hissed. “You’re already hiding it away.”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

Glancing over at me, he said, “I know, Granger. It just—It makes me feel like the world’s biggest wanker, that’s all. I give you something so extravagant and you can’t even show it off.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just not right.”

I didn’t have the heart to openly agree with him and make him feel worse.

Once the necklace was safely tucked away, memory Hermione looked at her bathroom door sceptically. With a shrug, she walked in and turned the lights on. On the counter, a new box of her favourite perfume was still wrapped in the cellophane, but she could see the note underneath it.

_“Using magic to hide notes,” she said to herself, shaking her head. “He’s ridiculous.”_

But she tore the film open nonetheless, quickly unfolding the slip of paper and reading Draco’s note.

“Do you have that one?” present Draco asked me. 

“I have all of them. Any note you ever left me,” I responded. “I separated these out so you could see them tonight.”

Memory Hermione’s cheeks flushed.

“There are nine gifts?” 

I nodded.

“So far, we’ve seen the perfume, the necklace, the dress, the lingerie, the book of poems, _Anima_ , the otter, the dragon…”

“Well, she hasn’t really found the otter and the dragon or _Anima_ yet, but the rest, yes,” I explained. “She’s going to rush back downstairs in a moment to look for the others.”

And so we watched memory Hermione tear through her house, trying to find the remaining four gifts. The glass figurines jumped out at her fairly quickly, but she had to investigate her small wine rack to find the expensive bottle at champagne that he’d hidden. There had been a small tag tied around the bottle that said: _For New Years. I can’t wait to celebrate with you, right here at home._

I sped through the time it took her to find _Anima_.

When she finally did, Draco and I watched her eyes well with tears as she read his inscription. 

“I was so overwhelmed by what you’d said, but I had to get over to Harry’s house, and I had to push it all down,” I told Draco. “And, honestly, as overwhelming as it was, I just didn’t believe it was true.”

“But that book also talks about Horcruxes, which you knew were real,” he said, pointing out the flaw in my logic.

As he challenged me, I felt a fluttering in my belly. It was something I’d been missing — the challenge, the simple debate — and had never really found with anyone else. Blaise had been smart, yes, but we’d never really talked about a whole lot of intellectual things.

“Maybe I didn’t want to believe it was real,” I replied quietly. “Because, if it was real, then I’d be going on forever without my soulmate.”

“But I was there with you,” Draco stated. “I was telling you I loved you over and over again.”

“You weren’t always there, though. You had to go home to Astoria, and then I’d be alone.”

I saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard, nearly choking on words he was holding back. I wondered what he wasn’t saying — what he was keeping from me — and was about to ask.

And then the memory changed again.

* * *

“Where are we?” Draco asked, looking around the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “Look at all the people in here.”

He started to sneer. “Weasel King’s family home, then.”

“Not quite. We’re at Grimmauld Place — Harry and Pansy’s house,” I corrected. “It may not be a Manor, but—”

“There’s barely a square metre of free space in this… kitchen,” Draco complained.

I watched as Molly bustled around, as a very pregnant Luna made her way through the crowd. Teddy and Victoire were running through the cramped space, playing with some sort of prank that George had given them, and Harry and Pansy sat off to the side with memory Hermione as she cradled James in her arms.

_“He’s really so perfect,” memory Hermione said, stroking her hand over James’ dark hair. “I just love him so much.”_

_“He’s my child, Granger. Of course he’s perfect,” Pansy replied haughtily. “Though he does take up a lot of time. I’m grateful that Molly was willing to take care of all the cooking today.”_

_“She’d do this every year if you’d let her,” Harry commented, but then his attention turned to memory Hermione. “You look different today.”_

_“Different how?” she asked._

_Pansy snorted. “Like you had seven orgasms and received a Christmas marriage proposal.”_

_Memory Hermione leaned down to press a kiss to James’ forehead, trying to hide her blush and avoid questions. “You know none of that happened.”_

_“But you weren’t home last night,” Harry said. “I popped over to see if you wanted to come spend some time with James.”_

_“I went to my old neighborhood,” memory Hermione replied, thinking quickly. “It… It makes me feel a bit closer to Mum and Dad, you know?”_

_He nodded in reply. “I went to Godric’s Hollow for an hour or so last night.” Settling a hand on her shoulder, he added, “Next time, let me know when you’re going. We can do all of that together.”_

_She gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, Harry. I didn’t want to bother you. You guys have a new baby, and I know you’re busy—”_

_Harry held up a hand. “Stop. I know things have been—”_

_“Oi! I want a turn with my godson,” Ron said, smiling down at memory Hermione. “Hand him over.”_

She looked to Harry and gave him a nod, signalling that she knew what he was saying. And then she stood and passed James off to Ron. He settled into her seat, chatting with Harry and Pansy exuberantly.

Taking her place.

With a little wave, she started to walk away.

“Why didn’t you stay there?” Draco asked.

“I couldn’t,” I replied. “Things were still very awkward between all of us. I couldn’t listen to Harry trying to be my best friend when we’d barely interacted outside of work in a few years, and it was worse with Ron.”

“Then why did you keep going?” 

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, his family became my family. Even while we were at Hogwarts, I spent a lot of my holidays with Harry and the Weasleys. I’d already lost my parents; I didn’t want to lose them, too.” 

As memory Hermione made her way through all the Weasleys, Molly caught her arm and pulled her into a hug.

_“You look wonderful, Hermione!” she said in greeting. “How are things?”_

_“They’re going well. I’m still at the DMLE obviously. Not much new to report.”_

_“And are you dating anyone?” Molly asked with a coy grin. “I want more little ones running around, sooner rather than later!”_

_Memory Hermione momentarily floundered, simultaneously wanting to shout from the rooftops that she was in love and cower in shame over their situation._

_“Mum, that’s enough,” Ginny interrupted, stepping forward to rescue her. “You’ve got plenty of little ones. Ask Harry to borrow James if you need a baby fix. I want to catch up with Hermione.”_

_Memory Hermione looked at Ginny gratefully before greeting her with a hug. “When did you get here, Gin? I’m so happy to see you.”_

_“I was upstairs talking to Andromeda,” Ginny whispered, linking her arm through Hermione’s. “She wanted to see you, actually. Let’s get out of couple central.”_

Glancing around the room, memory Hermione’s eyes misted. Harry and Pansy. Luna and Ron. Molly and Arthur. Bill and Fleur. Hell, even Teddy and Victoire seemed to have a little love affair going on.

_“Yes, let’s,” memory Hermione replied, blinking away the tears. “Gods, I can’t stand to see all the love in that room.”_

_“It’s sickening,” Ginny agreed, though her eyes darted over to Harry and Pansy quickly and it was clear she was imagining herself in Pansy’s place._

As memory Hermione and Ginny climbed the stairs, the noise and chatter fell away, giving them more silence to fill.

_“He seems happy,” Ginny said, her voice wavering. “I’ll never get used to seeing him with Pansy, but I’m glad that he’s happy.”_

_“You could find someone, you know,” memory Hermione replied, her voice hopeful. “I’m sure there are plenty of wizards who’d love to be with a famous witch like you.”_

_“Or like you,” Ginny shot back. “You’re way more famous than I am.”_

_“Not for anything fun, though.”_

Ginny laughed as they moved into the sitting room. Andromeda was there, Arthur beside her, and they were talking about Hogwarts.

_“Hermione, it’s good to see you,” Andromeda greeted, rising to her feet as soon as she’d noticed her. “You’re looking well.”_

It was reminiscent of what Pansy and Harry had said, and memory Hermione wondered if she really looked different today. Did Draco’s attention change her that much?

Present Draco started examining her closely, likely trying to figure out why everyone was making a fuss over how she looked. I didn’t stop him.

_“Thank you,” memory Hermione replied. “How have you been?”_

_“I’ve been doing well.”_

The conversation halted and Ginny broke the silence.

_“Didn’t you want to talk to Hermione, Andromeda?”_

_With a sigh, she nodded. “Can we speak privately?”_

_Memory Hermione looked puzzled, but she said, “Of course.”_

Ginny and Arthur exchanged a glance and left the room, closing the door behind them. The Black family tapestry still hung on the wall, even though it had been decades since anyone who cared about it had lived in the house. Present Draco watched as his aunt walked towards it, tracing the spot where she’d been blasted off.

Memory Hermione looked on, her nerves growing as Andromeda’s fingers traced over to Narcissa’s name, then to Lucius, then to Draco and Astoria.

_“You know, there was a time where I thought I’d reconcile with Narcissa after the war — that she’d reach out to me and apologise for all the years of disownment,” Andromeda began, her voice wistful. “But she never has.”_

_“I’m sorry,” memory Hermione said, not knowing what else was appropriate without being sure of where this conversation was going._

_“I don’t know if Lucius stops her, or if it’s her pride, or if she just simply doesn’t care. But that family — they hold so many secrets,” she continued. “It’s funny, though. These old tapestries show a lot more information than people think they do.”_

_Memory Hermione’s face flushed a telltale shade of pink, but she pretended to be clueless anyway. “What do you mean?”_

_“It’s well-known that my father sought company elsewhere after my mother gave birth to three daughters,” Andromeda explained, her fingers jumping up towards the thread that connected her parents. “My mother was a smart woman, though. She cursed him so he couldn’t impregnate another witch after he’d fallen asleep one night.” She beckoned memory Hermione closer. “Can you see this? The little gaps in the threading? Like it’s been cut away?”_

_“I can.”_

Andromeda cut her fingertip open, allowing blood to trickle out. She pressed it to the tapestry in one of the gaps.

_“My mother showed me how to do this. I’m not sure if it’s all the family tapestries, or just the Black ones, but—” A name appeared in red, halting her speech. Viola Avery. “My father’s mistress.”_

“Oh fuck,” present Draco said, realising where this was going.

_“I didn’t think the tapestry would recognise me still, but it seems this one was never changed, other than to blast mine and Sirius’ names off. Aunt Walburga was always a tad lazy and overdramatic,” Andromeda continued. “And Orion was nearly always drunk.”_

Memory Hermione looked down at her feet, twisting her hands together.

_“Please don’t think I’m just being nosy. I saw you together, and I verified it today when no one was around. I wanted to tell you that you need to be careful,” Andromeda said, pressing a finger to the gap in the thread that connected Draco and Astoria. “I don’t know if Narcissa has the tapestry that was in my parents’ house and I can’t be sure how she’d react. If Lucius found out—”_

My name appeared, bright red and clear as day, and I remembered how memory Hermione’s insides twisted.

_“He won’t,” memory Hermione stated, feeling sick that there were now at least two people who knew what she and Draco were up to behind closed doors. “I’m going to stop. It was only supposed to be one time.”_

Andromeda healed her fingertip and gave memory Hermione a sad look.

_“Ted and I, we were only supposed to be one time. I wanted to be with him, but I didn’t want to lose my family. I thought if I could just have that one memory to hold onto, I’d be able to go through with the marriage my parents had arranged for me…” She trailed off, lost in the past. Andromeda moved forwards, taking her hand and squeezing it. “But, Hermione, regardless of what your brain tells you, the heart wants what it wants. He wouldn’t have made the decision to start something with you lightly. Even with Voldemort gone, a Muggleborn is still a Muggleborn to some of the old families. I’m glad to see he’s let go of his father’s ways.”_

_“He’s married,” memory Hermione said, the words rushing out. “It’s not real.”_

_Pulling her into an embrace, Andromeda replied, “I think it’s real. Give him a little more time to figure it out.”_

Draco looked over at me, and then we were thrown from the memory, finding ourselves back in my sitting room.

“Did you ever find out where she saw us? How she knew?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t ask. But after that, I tried to keep us better hidden. We were here most of the time, anyway.”

“Hannah knew, too,” he stated. “Fuck, it’s no wonder Astoria found out. We weren’t very discreet.”

I tangled my fingers in my hair, wanting to tug it out. He watched me carefully, and I could feel his concern.

“I’m fine,” I told him. “I just… I need to think.”

Draco looked away, his attention focusing on the notes that I’d set on the table. He picked them up and started reading, leafing through them one by one. Nothing he’d written came as a shock to him.

After setting them back on the table, he asked, “Do you—Should we talk about anything else tonight?” 

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I really can.”

“Granger, I’m—” he huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets “—sorry. But that doesn’t seem adequate enough.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I knew what I was doing, Draco,” I replied. “Yes, it hurt that your aunt called me out, but she was also understanding and kind. And Harry and Pansy — they were right, too. I _was_ happy.”

“But I wasn’t there,” he said, meeting my eyes. “We were in love, and I just left you — I didn’t treat you properly. You or Astoria.”

I swallowed hard. I hadn’t expected him to understand so quickly.

“It’s all in the past,” I said quietly. “Just a memory at this point.”

His chest expanded and deflated more rapidly, and I had to will my breathing to stay normal.

“Right. A memory,” Draco repeated. “We’re just watching memories.”

“In just over a week, you’ll have a lot you can watch on your own if you want to,” I offered. “It’ll probably be easier when I’m not there with you anymore.”

He didn’t say anything. 

Feeling awkward, I gathered up the notes and turned to put them away, adding them to the stack and tying them together with the red ribbon that had been wrapped around the bottle of champagne we’d seen in the earlier memory.

“I’ll see you on Monday, then?” he asked.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted, “What about tomorrow?”

At his silence, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Tomorrow?” he asked eventually.

“I’m sorry — that was presumptuous of me. I’m sure that you want to spend time with Scorpius or your family—”

“Granger, it’s fine,” he interrupted. “I can come tomorrow. I just wasn’t expecting you to want to increase the frequency.”

Thinking quickly, I tried to find a plausible reason. I couldn’t, so I just said, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

After a moment, he repeated, “Yes. Tomorrow.”

He headed for the fireplace, his footsteps heavy.

Just as I spun to ask him if he wanted to try dinner again, he vanished in green flames, and I felt the heavy weight of his absence.

  
  



End file.
